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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Thousandth Regiment - 21. "We in the shadow of death, on dire watch"

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21. Im Todeschatten wir, auf schwerer Wacht

Rings um die Heimat stählern ausgespannt,

Fühlen den klaren Himmel, Blau und Nacht

Wie eine große gute Vaterhand.

 

Wenn Ferne und heulend Luft zerreißt

Und Erde bebt und Eisenhagel singt;

Wenn grauer Acker Blut und Tränen trinkt

Und Schmerz wie Irrlicht durch die Gräben kreist:

 

Sind wir, von Haß und Hölle angespien,

Ganz kinderstill und heben unsere Blöße

Aus Trümmern Glück und Wehmut hoch empor.

 

Da steigen Sterne aus des Himmels Tor

Wie einer Weißen Brücke sanfte Größe,

Auf der die tröstlichen Gedanken ziehn.

 

                              ---

 

21. We in the shadow of death, on dire watch

‘Round the unharnessed steely encampment,

Feel the wide-open heavens, blue, and night

Like an ample and wondrous Father-hand.

 

For when loneliness and cries rend the air

And the earth shakes, and iron hail sings loud;

When hoary acres imbibe blood and tears

And anguish like ghost lights stalks the trenches:

 

We are, spat upon by hatred and hell,

Hushed as children, lifting our nakedness

Out of ruins to send joy and pain aloft.

 

There rise celestial points from heaven's gate

Like a snow-white span of gentle greatness,

Upon which some thoughts of comfort may draw.

 

                              ---

 

 

 

_

Copyright © 2019 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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This is an astonishing poem, Hans wrote. First and last stanza are building and arc of humanity, confronting the cruel reality of war in stanza two and three. Hans uses a we again, including all soldiers and the suffering and pain is so universal, it does not divide on group from another. It shows the bare human helplessness.

Your translation is magnificent, following Hans structure and making the pictures he used working in English. Thank you for your hard work.

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Only in the early morning when i am first awake ... can i easily see the pictures Hans has wrought, and you have poured into words i understand. and i don't like them and they bring tears and an ache within me ... i have never been a soldier, never fought, never hidden within the earth. i have never looked up at the sky from my bloody, muddy foxhole and wondered why. But too easily when it is quiet here and i am alone it is all too easy to be there, watching him write.

and i do not want to, but as a poet, a man, a fellow human ... i must.

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On 9/14/2019 at 11:05 PM, Lyssa said:

This is an astonishing poem, Hans wrote. First and last stanza are building and arc of humanity, confronting the cruel reality of war in stanza two and three. Hans uses a we again, including all soldiers and the suffering and pain is so universal, it does not divide one group from another. It shows the bare human helplessness.

Your translation is magnificent, following Hans structure and making the pictures he used working in English. Thank you for your hard work.

Thank you, Lyssa. As you know, sometimes the task of translating these Sonnets is very hard work indeed. It's not possible for me to be in such intimate contact with the poems and not feel them deeply. With No. 21, the task was more of a personal one for me. It is such an amazing poem; no doubt one of the greatest, most significant from any of the WW1 poets (on any side!), and I feel humbled by it. There is so much in his few words that speak to the universality of human life being more important than any political situation. This is a triumphant masterwork to tell the stars, "Yes, I do matter." 

Thanks to you as always for helping and supporting this effort to bring Hans to and English-speaking public.

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On 9/15/2019 at 2:39 AM, Mikiesboy said:

Only in the early morning when i am first awake ... can i easily see the pictures Hans has wrought, and you have poured into words i understand. and i don't like them and they bring tears and an ache within me ... i have never been a soldier, never fought, never hidden within the earth. i have never looked up at the sky from my bloody, muddy foxhole and wondered why. But too easily when it is quiet here and i am alone it is all too easy to be there, watching him write.

and i do not want to, but as a poet, a man, a fellow human ... i must.

Thank you, Tim. The images of suffering conveyed in this poem are burdensome. I'd say that is part of Hans' gift as a poet. He can make us not only "see" what he sees, but feel it as well. However, in this poem, the contrast of those horrors with the great night spreading over him gives the soldier-poet peace. He knows -- I believe -- that what he writes about can connect to any and all who have been in his situation, as well as to folks like you and me who have not.

As always, I thank you deeply for reading these poems, and offering me your boundless support.  

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I’m sorry to have missed this. The images here evoke the brutal, desolate landscape and reality Hans lived in. He forces us to feel the cold mud, see the earth mixed with blood, and sense the terror of death so common that the spirit goes numb. Only the comfort of some imagined better-world-beyond could sustain his comrades. Yet he himself did not go numb - he instead gave us these lines so we could remember not to make hell on earth again. Your translations continue to be enormously important. 

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On 9/19/2019 at 7:50 AM, Parker Owens said:

I’m sorry to have missed this. The images here evoke the brutal, desolate landscape and reality Hans lived in. He forces us to feel the cold mud, see the earth mixed with blood, and sense the terror of death so common that the spirit goes numb. Only the comfort of some imagined better-world-beyond could sustain his comrades. Yet he himself did not go numb - he instead gave us these lines so we could remember not to make hell on earth again. Your translations continue to be enormously important. 

Thank you, Parker. I think Hans' No. 21 is one of the most valuable WW1 poems there is. It speaks concisely for every person who was forced into face-to-face combat by cushy desk-jobers back in their capitals. As I have mentioned before, the beauty and achievement of this poem (in the original) humbles me. I might also add that I look at it and shake my head in dreadful wonder how this poem is not already world famous. It belongs amongst a very small handful of that conflict's very best works of art, imo.

Thanks again for your reading and commenting. I appreciate getting your feedback   

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