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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. 

Translation Trashbin - 56. Die Strahlenströme trossen vom Gesicht

They don't get any Gayer than this, kids. Peter Baum imagines the springtime as a randy youth, "come" to . . . well, you'll soon find out.
The poem is possible only because "Spring" is a masculine noun in German, in contrast to Romance languages where "Spring" is always thought of as a girl. To Baum, he's defo a lad, lol
By the way -- broken record time -- but can you imagine THIS was put into print in 1902!!!! The balls on him . . . and the freedom of the German press -- wow

Morgen

 

Der Frühlings-Frühhauch durch das Fenster kam

Und strich mir kosend über Brust und Lider.

Ich schrak empor – da lief’s wie süße Scham

Durch meine starren, halberwachten Glieder.

 

Ich schrak empor und schaute in den Glanz,

Sah schlanke Halme im Gebet sich strecken,

Sah fern in seinem zarten Knospenkranz

Sich einem Baum in goldne Gluten recken.

 

Da überrauschte mich junge Kraft,

Und neu genesen, grüßte ich die Erde,

Die Lenz um Lenz mit frischem Schöpfungssaft

Aus kalten Toden quillt ein jauchzend: „Werde!“

 

Die zwischen Sturm und Streit und Angst und Neid

Viel Keime reift und goldne Lieder spendet,

Das mühlend winterliche Herzeleid

Zu ihrer warmen Schönheit Frieden wendet.

 

Ich sprang empor – und jauchzte in das Licht –

Da gab ein Klingen Antwort allerwegen –

Die Strahlenströme trossen vom Gesicht,

Die Arme warf ich hoch, dem Tag entgegen!

--Peter Baum,

1902

  

https://archive.org/details/bub_gb_iGouAAAAYAAJ/page/n81/mode/2up

 

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

 

Morning

 

Pubescent Spring's touch through the window came

And pettingly painted my throat and eyelids.

I sprang erect – then he, like sweet disgrace,

Ran over my stiff, half-neglected members.

 

I sprang erect and dwelt upon the sheen,

Watching feathery rivulets bend in prayer,

Seeing his fine filigrees trail far within

A scion crown of budding trees' golden fire.

 

Over-rushed by that adolescent power,

And newly recuperated, I met Earth,

Who Spring upon Spring, the Creation's juice

Lifts from cold deaths to rejoice: "Let there be life!"

 

So between storm and strife, angst and envy,

Our seeds may ripen to offer up their songs,

Thawing wintery heart-break hibernation

With the queering, tender love of beauty's peace.

 

I sprang erect – and rejoiced in such light

Finding sacryn replies from all directions

Thus, with streams of rays still pearled on my face,

I threw my arms up, to let the new day be!

 

 

_

Copyright © 2018 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
  • Love 3
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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What inspiring descriptiveness!  What beautiful images!  What vibrant verve and vim and vigor!  Especially like this part:

I sprang erect and dwelt upon the sheen,

Watching feathery rivulets bend in prayer,

Seeing his fine fillagrees trail far within

A scion crown of budding trees' golden fire.

What exciting, exhilarating, uplifting verses!  Loved it.

  • Love 2
On 8/2/2024 at 12:08 AM, ReaderPaul said:

What inspiring descriptiveness!  What beautiful images!  What vibrant verve and vim and vigor!  Especially like this part:

I sprang erect and dwelt upon the sheen,

Watching feathery rivulets bend in prayer,

Seeing his fine filigrees trail far within

A scion crown of budding trees' golden fire.

What exciting, exhilarating, uplifting verses!  Loved it.

Oh, thank you, ReaderPaul. Peter Baum's poetry is like unwrapping an incredible gift that has lain in someone's attic for decades.

I note that this particular poem has not been reprinted in modern, post-WW2 times. I'm sure it shocks more today than ever it did in 1902 :yes:

  • Love 2
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