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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. 

Light & Dragonflies: Nature Poems/Love Poems - 4. Gondola songs through rushes

.

Worte sind nicht immer blinde Bettler

an den Türen unsrer Sehnsucht

Manchmal fällt das Leben ein durch die hoen Tannenwälder

moosbespülte Fichten

lichten

ihren Leib den Silberketten

süßen

Lichts

und Libellenflimmer fließen

durch der Binsen Gondellied

Wenn am Wiesenhang des Himmels

blau versponnen Sommerfäden

tanzen auf ganz weißen Sohlen

in die Luft

spinnfeingewebt

 

 ---------------------------------

 

Our words are not always such blind beggars

hard upon our door of longing

Oftentimes life may rise adrift upon the high pine forests

where moss-drenched spruces weigh out

their forms

as flick’ring silver chains of sweet

flowing

light

and flights of dragonflies sing out

gondola songs through rushes

For then on meadow-slopes of sky

the spun blue threads of summertime

dance entirely on pale soles

cobwebbing

throughout the air

 

 

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_

Copyright © 2023 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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14 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

How can I not be captivated by this poem?
 

 

Oftentimes life may rise adrift upon the high pine forests

where moss-drenched spruces weigh out

their forms

as flick’ring silver chains of sweet

flowing

light

This image alone is a gem, and reminds me of early June mornings at my grandmother’s home. Already, my heart is singing. 

Thank you, Parker. This poem is somewhat unique in Runge's work for being entirely about a personal experience in nature. Usually the poet skillfully weaves a tapestry of personal passions for an individual with ravishing landscapes. Here, very unusually for Expressionist poetry, he starts with a rhetorical statement:

 

Worte sind nicht immer blinde Bettler

an den Türen unsrer Sehnsucht

 

(Our words are not always such blind beggars

hard upon our door of longing)

 

He then proceeds to paint the most non-beggarly portrait of a summer landscape imaginable. It's no wonder Tom Riebe, modern scholar and publisher, has declared Wilhelm Runge the greatest lyric poet of his generation. It's a hard to argue against such an understanding with a poem like the above evidencing Runge's achievements  

Edited by AC Benus
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