German Poetry Now: A bilingual online-anthology, featured by DAS GEDICHT chapbook
Ilma Rakusa
Picture in the bedroom
No movie poster, no Madonna,
no landscape, but her: she,
the sleeping Japanese woman. Standing
and sleeping, with pitch-black hair
and a barrette in that ink-blue
turtleneck sweater, her lips
painted red as if for a fancy ball.
But so much adrift, removed. Now
I look at her behind the glass; she
doesn’t see me. The snapshot of
sleep lasts forever. One perennially
extending moment full of innocence.
And blissful, that too. Come,
the picture is whispering – what are
you waiting for. Close your eyelids,
relax, unfurrow your face, enter
the peaceful calm. Now. I follow
the bidding. In the night, when
blackness blossoms. I lay, breathing
shallowly. Read the wafer-thin light
that seeps through the shades. Still.
And think of nothing. One, five,
every number negates itself. Each
fear fades away into thin air. Behind
me it is sleeping. Is already there.
Disengaged and lost. Good
night. Then I remember that
I do not know her name.
Never knew. She guards me
namelessly. A young Japanese woman
from Kobe. Above the headboard
of my bed. If only the ground
does not shake. For the picture is
heavy. It could strike me dead
without effort. O eternal slumber!
translated by Paul-Henri Campbell
+ German Original / Das OriginalIlma Rakusa
Schlafzimmerbild
Kein Filmplakat, keine Madonna,
keine Landschaft, aber sie: die
schlafende Japanerin. Steht und
schläft, mit pechschwarzem Haar
und Spange, in tintenblauem
Rollkragenpullover, die Lippen
rot geschminkt wie für den Ball.
Doch so weit weggedriftet. Jetzt.
Ich schaue sie an hinter Glas, sie
sieht mich nicht. Der geknipste
Schlaf hält für immer. Ein sich
dehnender Moment voll Unschuld.
Und selig, auch das. Komm,
flüstert das Bild, was zögerst
du noch. Schliess die Lider,
entspanne die Züge, kehr ein
in die Ruhe. Jetzt. Ich folge dem
Ruf. Nachts, wenn die Schwärze
blüht. Ich liege und atme flach.
Lese das fadendünne Licht, das
durch die Jalousien rinnt. Still.
Und denke an nichts. Eins, fünf,
jede Zahl hebt sich auf. Jede
Angst zerrinnt in Luft. Hinter
mir schläft es. Sie ist schon dort.
Ausgeklinkt und verloren. Gute
Nacht. Da fällt mir ein, dass
ich ihren Namen nicht weiss.
Nie wusste. Sie bewacht mich
namenlos. Eine junge Japanerin
aus Kobe. Über dem Kopfende
meines Betts. Wenn nur die Erde
nicht bebt. Denn das Bild ist
schwer. Es könnte mich spielend
erschlagen. O ewiger Schlaf.
© Ilma Rakusa, Zürich (Schweiz)
aus: DAS GEDICHT Bd. 22 / Oktober 2014
+ About the author / Zum Autor
The daughter of a Slovenian father and a Hungarian mother, Ilma Rakusa was born in 1946 in Rimavská Sobota (Slovakia). She spent her early childhood living in Budapest, Ljubljana, and Trieste. In 1951, her family immigrated to Switzerland. She studied Slavic and French literature in Zurich, Paris, and St. Petersburg. After her dissertation on the motif of loneliness in Russian literature, she debuted with her first book of poems entitled »As in Winter« (1977). She has also published poetry collections, short stories, as well as essays. She translates from Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Hungarian, and French. Ilma Rakusa has for many years been a prominent patron and advocate for Eastern European literature in the German speaking world and beyond. She contributes to major newspapers, such as Die Zeit and Neue Züricher Zeitung. Her work has been widely celebrated. She is a member of the German Academy for Language and Literature. Today, Ilma Rakusa lives in Zurich, Switzerland. Her poetry is marked by a voice that ambulates from the tone of a highly reflected inner monologue to poetic imagery reminiscent of the language of the Romantics up to the elevated diction of prophecy and down again to the rambling of children playing. Given her background in translation and the trajectory of her life, Ilma Rakusa is an avid traveler and thus frequently takes up less Eurocentric themes, such as the Temple of the Fox (shrine of Inari) in Kyoto, Japan, or enters into a dialogue with movies by Andrei Tarkovsky. In her sequence of long poems, entitled »Love after love«, Ilma Rakusa explores the transient intersections between love, devotion, lust, and violence.
»Lustful Things – Geile Sachen!« im Archiv
»Lustful Things – Geile Sachen!« is an online collection of contemporary German-language poetry in English translation. All poems were taken from issue no. 22 of the German poetry magazine DAS GEDICHT, focused on the Poetry of Things. New English translations by Paul-Henri Campbell as well as the German originals are published here every Wednesday. All poems of this online-collection will also be published in a special print-edition. In order to read previous poems in this series, click here.
»Lustful Things – Geile Sachen!« ist eine Online-Sammlung zeitgenössischer deutschsprachiger Dinggedichte in englischer Übersetzung. Alle Texte sind Band 22 der Zeitschrift DAS GEDICHT entnommen. Jeden Mittwoch erscheint ein neues Gedicht, das von Paul-Henri Campbell ins Englische übertragen wurde, zusammen mit dem deutschen Original. Die Beiträge dieser Online-Anthologie gibt es auch als Sonderausgabe in Buchform. Alle bereits erschienenen Folgen von »Lustful Things – Geile Sachen!« finden Sie hier.
»Lustful Things – Geile Sachen!« im Archiv
