Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis,
les chasseurs et leurs chiens,
autour d'un animal
sacrifié à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue.


After the wild hunt,
we, hunters and dogs,
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now.

We had run with the hare, hunting with the hounds:
My dog had killed the hare I had to bury now.
My dog, who'd killed the hare, she had to bury now
my anger with her licks.



Eyes dark, neck broken, flesh warm: He lay still.
I carried in my arms of pity his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not let slip off yet a life
that had left the world too soon,
and rich was the night; the death
I touched, was teasing me:
"Follow me, soft lover! Maybe?"
"May it be, may it be so!
So, may it be so … yet?"
"Follow me!
It's easy."


Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste,
betend, dass es doch noch lebte,
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei,
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen,
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst, wie schmal der Grad
zwischen „Werden“, „Sein“,
„Gewesen“ ist.


When I laid down to last rest
the leveret's body on the ground,
drowning in rain,
and put my ear to his chest,
praying that he still would be alive,
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters,
for the first time I realised
how small the bridge between "become",
"to be" and "not exist",
how small it really is.


--------------------------------------------------------------

Ode to a dead leveret (rev.1: billy, tec, brownlie, heart)

Eyes dark,
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.
Rich was the night.
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Original: ODE TO A DEAD YOUNG HARE

S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Hi serge,
first of all, this is common occurence for me. Though I shoot and hunt with my dog I have great respect for my quarry and do not kill randomly or for pleasure...but I admit to triumphalism on a clean kill and on deep regret if otherwise. Accordingly, I have often killed with my bare hands, so have prior knowledge of your expressed sentiment in this piece. I do, though, always try to kill with correct punctuation

S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that
had left the world so recently Overcome with emotion you are not even trying to express yourself with clarity. It is like a man sobbing rather than speaking. This may be good or bad...but it is not easy on the mind's eye. Do you care? I think not
..and yet you have posted it here.
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?
I am much taken with the cameo for my own reasons. Others may not be so receptive BUT it would appear that you have all the words written in the right order so for that I am grateful. The grouping of the words is an emotional task which I for one wish was not necessary BECAUSE I want to read YOU not me. See end.
Best,
tectak
Sadly enjoyable. Sadly, enjoyable. See what I mean?
(or not yet?) Omit. I did. Frivolous

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens We sat down with their dogs?
autour d'un animald'une victime sacrifié?
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue I like perdue used this way

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks Are these lines just notes?

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist ...and vat ees wrong vith schmetterling?


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small then I realised how small the bridge between "to be" and "to not exist." ...or not to be Beautiful and ultimately necessary perception of the ungraspable truth of the fragility of life
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is. Sorry to seem clinical (though I DO get the beautifully expressed emotional imagery in this) but I STILL feel you are relying too much on the rawness of the thought process. Perhaps you will decide to leave it in this vulnerable poetic state...and that would be fine. Sometimes clinical crit is quite superfluous and this may be one of those times.
I feel this piece very strongly and am entirely empathetic to you and your quarry...so am a poor judge. Heart is quite right. It will take a few visits.

Best,
tectak

i automatically see the title as; ode to a leveret.
some great lines in the poem serge, sadly the syntax in some of them is wobbly the lack of punctuation does the poem no just what so ever and in places causes it to falter, the enjambment would benefit with some punctuation, while i do like the content it does need restructuring

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but but feels awkward (makes the enjambment twonky)
couldn't let go off yet a life that again the end word feels awkward. the syntax of the line also feels awkward, i'm presuming you mean of and not off, a suggestion would be, couldn't let go of a life that
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death without punctuation the poem is losing its cohesion
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now now this stanza works, though i'd suggest huntsmen and dogs, as dogs are hunters in this instance, it's like saying hunters and hunters

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground you buried the hare in the last stanza, did you dig it up again? (though here it mysteriously changes to a damn rabbet
drowned in rain, it was chewed to death, it didn't drown (sorry i can't help myself)
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive would still be
that he just pretended being dead is just needed?
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small realised
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  S1

eyes dark broken --- There might be a more concrete word than broken to use. listless, dark, dull... I don't know my opinion
flesh warm still-- syntax is awkward here
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body ---- I carried his warm body in my arms?
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that -- did you mean of?
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet? --- you have the seeds of an interesting rhythm here.

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling--- You might be interested in the myth of Actaeon who was torn apart by his own hounds after being turned into a buck.

Après la chasse sauvage -- I admire the use of other languages though i can't comment much because I don't know them
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks--- I like the anaphora here.

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.-- awkward syntax but revelations such as this are great ways of ending poems.

You have a clear story, but it is hard to sustain rhythm and write in a matter of fact way (if this is your goal). I like the multiple languages but thats the most I can say about that. Good post.

Heart, Tom, Billy and Brownlie: thank you for all the comments. Very much appreciated. I will revise very soon and most probably add punctuation. I am quite surprised how well Tom read my intentions. Maybe one of the reasons for that is indeed because he hunts. The ode is not exclusively expressing sadness but the amazement caused by my encounter with death, having just occurred a minute ago.
The hare was not torn to pieces, as Billy thought, but his neck was broken. Could not find one single drop of blood. This and the fact that his body was still warm, added to the "strangeness" of the situation for me. We were not really hunting (well the dogs were. ,-): It was a accident. Otherwise I surely would not have buried the hare. The metaphorical hunters I introduce, are hunting for nightly fun (pergolade de la nuit).

Structure: I ll remove the French and German because the English parts of S2 and 3 are "informed" by them (they are not word by word translations). I most likely will also combine S2 and 3.

cheers and thanks again :-)

serge

(05-14-2013, 01:24 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Heart, Tom, Billy and Brownlie: thank you for all the comments. Very much appreciated. I will revise very soon and most probably add punctuation. I am quite surprised how well Tom read my intentions. Maybe one of the reasons for that is indeed because he hunts. The ode is not exclusively expressing sadness but the amazement caused by my encounter with death, having just occurred a minute ago.
The hare was not torn to pieces, as Billy thought, but his neck was broken. Could not find one single drop of blood. This and the fact that his body was still warm, added to the "strangeness" of the situation for me. We were not really hunting (well the dogs were. ,-): It was a accident. Otherwise I surely would not have buried the hare. The metaphorical hunters I introduce, are hunting for nightly fun (pergolade de la nuit).

Structure: I ll remove the French and German because the English parts of S2 and 3 are "informed" by them (they are not word by word translations). I most likely will also combine S2 and 3.

cheers and thanks again :-)

serge

-----------
When I will post rev.1, I'll reply to the critics' critiques, because they deserve it. They have raised interesting questions, which is why it takes me so long to do a rewrite. I must partly blame Cloudy, because of my having been only recently too deep into her poem " city park", and I admire her ability to write poetry without punctuation. With my ode to a leveret (ty Billy! ;-) ) I thought, I could a give it a try, because of what Tom stated above: overcome by emotion. Unfortunately, I then succumbed to my usual fooling around with syntax (e.g. here: "my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now(/)
my dog who'd killed the hare (/) she had to bury now
my anger with her licks". Brownlie has seen what I did there: anaphora. ,-)

...
cheers

serge

rev 1 up. Thanks to Billy for (idea for) new title.

Major edit: threw out everything owed to gurkskish word play except for ... well, you'll see. ;-)
line breaks: heavy! Not sure. But almost.
cheers
serge

Alright according to merriam webster an ode is- a lyric poem usually marked by exaltation of feeling and style, varying length of line, and complexity of stanza forms -- The key word here is lyric which means it is crafted to be set to a song. I'm sure Leanne would be a good source if you want more info on the ode. Having posted that it is really only a problem when you have a title that tells the reader they are going to read an ode.

Eyes dark, --terse lines give a feeling of scientific analysis
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves - Wet leaves is your strongest image so far
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.-- Good sentiment
Rich was the night.
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.

Billy may have a point questioning your use of enjambment some may argue that each line should be self contained unless you want that hurried running expression that enjambment can bring. Thanks for posting.

(05-20-2013, 10:39 AM)Brownlie Wrote:  Alright according to merriam webster an ode is- a lyric poem usually marked by exaltation of feeling and style, varying length of line, and complexity of stanza forms -- The key word here is lyric which means it is crafted to be set to a song. I'm sure Leanne would be a good source if you want more info on the ode. Having posted that it is really only a problem when you have a title that tells the reader they are going to read an ode.

Eyes dark, --terse lines give a feeling of scientific analysis
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves - Wet leaves is your strongest image so far
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.-- Good sentiment
Rich was the night.
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.

Billy may have a point questioning your use of enjambment some may argue that each line should be self contained unless you want that hurried running expression that enjambment can bring. Thanks for posting.

re: Ode. You have a point there. Maybe it is a Threnody, rather. (Then I could do without "dead": Threnody to a leveret. Or instead just: Dead leveret?)
Enjabment: this is a very slow piece, which is why I restructured the first couple of lines. I left a trace of enjambment only for reason of content: to make visible the difficulty of the N to let go of the young life.
Here for the same reason:
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.


But as I wrote above: line breaks! Sigh! ;-)
Thanks for looking into this again.
cheers
Serge

the edit is okay but it's not a patch on the original, it reads and feels as a completely different poem. like i say, it's okay but it's not the poem you started with. i see you as a good writer and a poet that knows how to create an image. this doesn't feel like it's yours. it's flat and to be honest, if you fattened it up you'd have to make it less in depth and more in width; you end up with a six liner. the title works for the original poem, but not for this one. you have lots of ability, you're a very clever writer, you see things with a keen eye; this edit however disproves the facts (no line by.) jmo

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Eyes dark,
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.Some may Yoda cry. I think it is fitting. A mere hint of word play which can be plausibly denied
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently. I want to say that this line could say more. As it is, it is a repeat of a cold and chronological commentary. The body is still warm. We know it died recently. It could be pointed. Even "a life lost too soon" would be, perhaps, more salient AND apposite.
Rich was the night. Says nothing additive
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.Very you. Very me.Very good....though I miss the "thin bridge to death" reference in the original.
Hi serge,
you tinker with this at your peril but you are no stranger to danger. You have two choices...both will produce an excellent piece. Option 1.Tinker with it some more. Option 2. Leave it alone.
Best,
tectak
--------------------------------------------------------------
Original: ODE TO A DEAD YOUNG HARE

S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.

Ode to a dead poem:

I start to seriously dislike the hare. Maybe its very well deserved death was really just meant to lead me into temptation? A kind of agent provocateur. No, the dog's to blame. I mean the "hunter's" bitch. And now I have forgiven her already! (Because of the good licking she gave me. See original))
With no one else left, it must be me, then.
I must agree with billy (the fattening, the non-ode-ishness). I even know why it would be in vain to try to fatten it up. The first few lines are too cohesive /clotted. I can neither pull them apart by stuffing them nor push them together into fewer longer lines.

The poet, killing his poem by over-editing, has by way of side effect triggered subconsciously the pampering by his critics (well: 50% of his commenters).
But wait! The poem's not dead yet: Salvation is near and easy to get. All that had to be done, would be to turn the text upside down.
The poet would simply start with the combined frog-sauerkraut stanza to set the scene and then finish the ode off with a nice little (and slightly cynical) lament (making (dead) ends meet with tec's quote of Ecclesiastes).

It's easy! (Id est, patet exposita ad oculos. At least I can see it now. ,-) )
But maybe too easy for me. Let me explain, why: I think I could come to the ode's rescue by investing even more righthandedness. I have an emotional problem with this one now. I am too distanced by now from the strong feelings that gave birth to it. Still I might get back to it at a later point in time, maybe occasioned by a similar event.

Thank you again for the input. I learned quite a lot from it.

cheers
serge

(05-20-2013, 05:52 PM)tectak Wrote:  

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Eyes dark,
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.Some may Yoda cry. I think it is fitting. A mere hint of word play which can be plausibly denied
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently. I want to say that this line could say more. As it is, it is a repeat of a cold and chronological commentary. The body is still warm. We know it died recently. It could be pointed. Even "a life lost too soon" would be, perhaps, more salient AND apposite.
Rich was the night. Says nothing additive
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.Very you. Very me.Very good....though I miss the "thin bridge to death" reference in the original.
Hi serge,
you tinker with this at your peril but you are no stranger to danger. You have two choices...both will produce an excellent piece. Option 1.Tinker with it some more. Option 2. Leave it alone.
Best,
tectak

Good afternoon, Tec!

Some may Yoda cry. I think it is fitting. A mere hint of word play which can be plausibly denied



I want to say that this line could say more. As it is, it is a repeat of a cold and chronological commentary. The body is still warm. We know it died recently. It could be pointed. Even "a life lost too soon" would be, perhaps, more salient AND apposite.

Agreed!

Says nothing additive

Yes, but ... ,-)
I's a left over from the original. I kept it out of nostalgia. Was a wrong decision.

Very you. Very me.Very good....though I miss the "thin bridge to death" reference in the original.

Thank you! Yes, the thin bridge is missing. really missing. Something else is missing, too:
1. the hunting for fun (double entendre here: chasseurs de rigolade - nuit de rigolade - nuit (= rigolade) perdue)
2. the emotional ambivalence towards the killer dog (to run with the hare hunting with the hounds etc)

I will at least correct the spelling and the 2 grave nits billy has pointed out before and punctuation of the original and post it above rev 1. and may(be) then give it a new try (as explained above).

cheers
serge

---

A belated explanation of :

(05-13-2013, 05:07 PM)tectak Wrote:  

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens We sat down with their dogs?
autour d'un animald'une victime sacrifié?
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue I like perdue used this way

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks Are these lines just notes?

Best,
tectak[/b]

We sat down with their dogs?

No. The underlying syntactic structure is :
nous, les chasseurs* et leurs chiens,
nous nous sommes assis ...
"we sat,
hunters and their dogs, ..."
I think without commas it must be "leurs" bc of "les" but with a comma after "chasseurs" "nos" would be correct, I guess: nous, les chasseurs, et nos chiens. Still looks a bit odd to me.
Because: "nous" comprises both: hunters and dogs. But my fault (read on pls).
To avoid triple usage of "nous" in 2 lines I transformed the construction by flip-flopping of clauses, mais parce que j'ai négligé la ponctuation, il est devenu peut-être incompréhensible (lack of pronunciation lead to loss of meaning, perhaps.
---------------------------------------------
* like in moi, le poète.

d'une victime sacrifié?

There is a semantical overlap between victime and sacrifié(e) (with the victim being what is sacrificed, so in the French I wanted to avoid redundancy. (Because French is too posh for slopperies like that, ;-))


Are these lines just notes?

No. It is an anaphoric construction playing with my aforementioned ambivalence toward my dog. She has to lick my face to soothe my "anger". ,-)

cheers
serge

Major revision 2 up. Many thanks to tec!

cheers

serge

(05-13-2013, 03:59 AM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis,
les chasseurs, et leurs chiens,
autour d'un animal
sacrifié à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue.


After the wild hunt,
we, hunters and dogs,
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now.

We had run with the hare, hunting with the hounds:
My dog had killed the hare I had to bury now.
My dog, who'd killed the hare, she had to bury now
my anger with her licks.



Eyes dark, neck broken, flesh warm: He lay still.
I carried in my arms of pity his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not let slip off yet a life
that had left the world too soon,
and rich was the night; the death
I touched, was teasing me:
"Follow me, soft lover! Maybe?"
"May it be, may it be so!
So, may it be so … yet?"
"Follow me!
It's easy."


Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste,
betend, dass es doch noch lebte,
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei,
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen,
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst, wie schmal der Grad
zwischen „Werden“, „Sein“,
„Gewesen“ ist.


When I laid down to last rest
the leveret's body on the ground,
drowning in rain,
and put my ear to his chest,
praying that he still would be alive,
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters,
for the first time I realised
how small the bridge between "become",
"to be" and "not exist",
how small it really is.


--------------------------------------------------------------

Ode to a dead leveret (rev.1: billy, tec, brownlie, heart)

Eyes dark,
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.
Rich was the night.
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Original: ODE TO A DEAD YOUNG HARE

S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.

Be careful,serge, that you do not bend to often to the will of others masquerading as your own. THRENODY it may well be,but not where I am from. We used to call a threnody a dirge in my youthful choirister days. If you bend too much and to often you will get metal fatigue and break. This was/is a good piece of work. Stop pissing about with it.
Best,
tectak
( I liked it then I like it now. Distill, do not dilute)

(05-21-2013, 03:56 AM)tectak Wrote:  Be careful,serge, that you do not bend to often to the will of others masquerading as your own. THRENODY it may well be,but not where I am from. We used to call a threnody a dirge in my youthful choirister days. If you bend too much and to often you will get metal fatigue and break. This was/is a good piece of work. Stop pissing about with it.
Best,
tectak
( I liked it then I like it now. Distill, do not dilute)

It's a thin line, the bending or not or how much, esp. for a non-native speaker. What I want to get rid of are involuntary linguistic mistakes. The rest, the idosyncrasies I want to keep. Threnody in the R. W. Emersonian sense, btw. I have this problem that German (poetry in particular) bores me to death (with one exception (not! me ;-) ). Sad but true. ,-) Even dialects have lost their sexiness. It's nice to listen to Bavarian when drunk, but thats it.

cheers
serge

(05-20-2013, 08:47 PM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Ode to a dead poem:

I start to seriously dislike the hare. Maybe its very well deserved death was really just meant to lead me into temptation? A kind of agent provocateur. No, the dog's to blame. I mean the "hunter's" bitch. And now I have forgiven her already! (Because of the good licking she gave me. See original))
With no one else left, it must be me, then.
I must agree with billy (the fattening, the non-ode-ishness). I even know why it would be in vain to try to fatten it up. The first few lines are too cohesive /clotted. I can neither pull them apart by stuffing them nor push them together into fewer longer lines.

The poet, killing his poem by over-editing, has by way of side effect triggered subconsciously the pampering by his critics (well: 50% of his commenters).
But wait! The poem's not dead yet: Salvation is near and easy to get. All that had to be done, would be to turn the text upside down.
The poet would simply start with the combined frog-sauerkraut stanza to set the scene and then finish the ode off with a nice little (and slightly cynical) lament (making (dead) ends meet with tec's quote of Ecclesiastes).

It's easy! (Id est, patet exposita ad oculos. At least I can see it now. ,-) )
But maybe too easy for me. Let me explain, why: I think I could come to the ode's rescue by investing even more righthandedness. I have an emotional problem with this one now. I am too distanced by now from the strong feelings that gave birth to it. Still I might get back to it at a later point in time, maybe occasioned by a similar event.

Thank you again for the input. I learned quite a lot from it.

cheers
serge

And so the tragedy becomes a comedy.

(05-21-2013, 08:42 AM)Brownlie Wrote:  

(05-20-2013, 08:47 PM)serge gurkski Wrote:  Ode to a dead poem:

I start to seriously dislike the hare. Maybe its very well deserved death was really just meant to lead me into temptation? A kind of agent provocateur. No, the dog's to blame. I mean the "hunter's" bitch. And now I have forgiven her already! (Because of the good licking she gave me. See original))
With no one else left, it must be me, then.
I must agree with billy (the fattening, the non-ode-ishness). I even know why it would be in vain to try to fatten it up. The first few lines are too cohesive /clotted. I can neither pull them apart by stuffing them nor push them together into fewer longer lines.

The poet, killing his poem by over-editing, has by way of side effect triggered subconsciously the pampering by his critics (well: 50% of his commenters).
But wait! The poem's not dead yet: Salvation is near and easy to get. All that had to be done, would be to turn the text upside down.
The poet would simply start with the combined frog-sauerkraut stanza to set the scene and then finish the ode off with a nice little (and slightly cynical) lament (making (dead) ends meet with tec's quote of Ecclesiastes).

It's easy! (Id est, patet exposita ad oculos. At least I can see it now. ,-) )
But maybe too easy for me. Let me explain, why: I think I could come to the ode's rescue by investing even more righthandedness. I have an emotional problem with this one now. I am too distanced by now from the strong feelings that gave birth to it. Still I might get back to it at a later point in time, maybe occasioned by a similar event.

Thank you again for the input. I learned quite a lot from it.

cheers
serge

And so the tragedy becomes a comedy.

Yes! Isn't life beautiful?
cheers
serge