31 July 2007

in these egyptian movies

on a short stopover in frankfurt last week, i found joachim sartorius' poetry book In den ägyptischen Filmen, for which cees nooteboom wrote an epilogue. while reading it, i felt the urge to underline certain formulations and expressions. i rarely do that, so i was surprised when i kept on doing so throughout the book. while drawing lines, i thought it would be very interesting to see what these different phrases would look like strung together in chronological order.

weirdly enough, cees nooteboom did the same. joining different lines of various poems in one paragraph while discussing them, he even apologized for doing so. i don't see a reason for apologizing, as i find it rare that someone manages to sprinkle words in a way that a whole mosaic can be forced open and still look good re-worked in a miniature form, so to speak. here, hacked up wanderlust becomes home sickness. but remember, this is my very personal selection of
favorite lines written by mr. sartorius' that became a new poem. below you'll find its instant translation as usual:

Ich habe das Licht
vom Licht unterschieden,
drei Papageienarten
nach dir
benannt
(ohne Federn zu lassen)
ein
[en] Ultramarin

ja ich läge ja sehnlichst
läge ich in dir

früher im Jahr
Ein kleines totes Blatt

Alles verwirrte dich endlich
und
diese Wespe irrt durch diese Uhr,
die Welt ist eine heiße Wiese,
Sansibar,
wo es zu tun gibt.

Zum Ende dann: "Es war
nicht so gemeint."


[I have distinguished light
from light,
named three parrot species after
you
(without casting feathers)
one ultramarine

yes I would lie yearning
would I lie in you

Earlier on in that very same year
one small dead leaf

Finally all things confused you
and
this wasp errs through this clock,
this world is some hot grassland,
Sansibar,
where there is work to do.

Then, in the end: "It wasn't
meant like that."]

The poems used were (in chronological order, as stated above):
Diana, Die Lehre des Flügels, Liebe und Arbeit, Umarmung, con affetto, Der Tisch wird kalt, Brinkmann steht, In dieser schwarzen Ruhe.

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