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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 - 1. Wandering through the power of your eyes

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Wenn du langsam hingehst

fühl ich Abend

Nebel schleiert hoch

mein Fuß geht irr durch die Macht deines Auges

meiner Hände Trauerweiden hängen

und der Lippen Lerchen schlummern still

bis der Morgen sonnenlachengoldig wieder alle

Wiesen überspringt

und die Stirne wie der Himmel aufsteigt

klar und unbewölkt

frühwindumspült [i]

 

 ---------------------------------

 

When you leave slowly, I

feel the evening

fog veiling my feet

Wandering through the power of your eyes, my

hands hang weeping willows and the larks

on my lips slumber quietly

until the morning with golden sunshine leaps over

the meadows once more

and my aspects rise again like the sky

clear and free of clouds

bathed in freshness

 

 

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[i] “Wenn du langsam hingehst” Wilhelm Runge, printed in the February issue of Der Strum magazine (Berlin 1919), ps. 140-142

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=coo.31924106556214&seq=148

 

One often encounters terms used in refrain-like manner with German Expressionist verse. Else Lasker-Schüler, for example, routinely uses gold and golden in her poems. With Wilhelm Runge, the term is Stirne. As my translations propose Runge uses this word in varying meanings, I feel I should provide my source information, lest I be accused of ‘reading too much’ into a term that may seem basic enough at face value. With a little digging, it soon becomes apparent the word’s scope is quite broad.

Stirne (N. plural) = brows, forehead(s?). From Middle High German: “Mittelhochdeutsch stirn(e), althochdeutsch stirna, eigentlich = ausgebreitete Fläche, zu strahl.” [[Middle High German brow(s), Old High German fornna, actually = spread out area (Fläche = N. faces; surfaces; areas; planes; expenses); to beam (Strahl = N. ray; beam; spurt; gush; horizon line [as used in math and perspective])]]

Literary: nerves. Have the ‘brows’ to do something brave. Also, to dare another in the sense of “cause an effrontery”; or, to stand up and challenge illegitimate authority; i.e. have the cheek to do something. To be resolute.

Thus, in summary, Stirne means brows and forehead; the plane of something inanimate like a vast field (or a cliff face, etc.); one’s mental viewpoint or perspective; a literal landscape’s perspective; or, as a verb, to mathematically project the vanishing lines used in perspective drawings. And also figuratively, to show or project cheek; daring; bravery, gall; nerves; etc.

_

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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Chapter Comments

21 minutes ago, JohnnyC said:

Thank You for This Beautiful verse ! I Hope All Is Happy & Joyous With You Too 🌝

Thanks, Johnny, for the upbeat encouragement. It's much appreciated 

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How can one not connect to this poem at the end of a perfect summer day, with the fading light and high clouds just as you have pictured them? It’s quite beautiful. 

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I love your translation.  For the fun of it, I ran the German through Google translate and Bing translate.  (For some reason, Bing at first translated it into Spanish!)  Your translation is the most readable, with Bing (for once) a close second.   This is a beautiful poem, AC.

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On 8/13/2023 at 1:40 PM, Parker Owens said:

How can one not connect to this poem at the end of a perfect summer day, with the fading light and high clouds just as you have pictured them? It’s quite beautiful. 

Thank you, Parker. I feel lucky to have bumped into Runge's work in the first place. Killed so young in WW1, his genius seems to have burned like a light bulb about to flare out and go back to the darkness from whence it came.

Thank you for reading these with me

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On 8/13/2023 at 11:07 PM, ReaderPaul said:

I love your translation.  For the fun of it, I ran the German through Google translate and Bing translate.  (For some reason, Bing at first translated it into Spanish!)  Your translation is the most readable, with Bing (for once) a close second.   This is a beautiful poem, AC.

Thank you, ReaderPaul. I think there will be a lot of fun and beauty in reading Runge's work with me. At least I'm beating the translation sites :rofl: In this day of artificial intelligence (read human error introduced into computing....), beating the machines at being human may be something we'll all strive to do!

Thanks again. The next one is up to bat

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