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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 - 12. "The world's adrift some placid evening waves"

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12. Auf sanften Abendwellen treibt die Welt.

Wir aber, jäh erlöst aus Qual und Schweiß,

Sind von Begierden trotzig angeschwellt

Und taumeln auf, von tausend Fiebern heiß.

 

O rauchiger Kantinen Trunkenheiten!

O Lied, das heiser in die Nächte stößt!

O Mädchen, die uns weiß entgegengleiten!

O Mensch sein, heiß und hungrig und entblößt!

 

Schwer unterm Ring von klirrenden Gestirnen,

Sind wir so voller Leidenschaft nach Sein,

Daß jedes Bild der Welt uns schnell verschlingt,

 

Und wie die Dämmerung langsam verschlingt,

Tanzt im Gewölk von unsern dumpfen Hirnen

Das blonde Leben, göttlich und gemein.

 

                              ---

 

12. The world's adrift some placid evening waves.

But we, on leave for now from all grief and sweat,

Are truculently engorged with cravings

And stagger forth, 'neath a thousand fevers hot.

 

O raunchy, smoke-filled taverns drunkenness!

O songs that hoarsely shock-spill into the night!

O womankind, who glide white against us!

O mankind, who's hot and hungry and bared!

 

Thus, hard under the clashing ring of stars,

We are so passionate about being,

Every glimpse of the world swallows us up,

 

And later, as the dawn slowly vanishes,

Our fuzzy brains can dance in the clouds of

Real life sun-streaked, so divine and dirty.

 

                              ---

 

 

 

_

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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After what the soldier has seen and lived, the passion about being - about life without trenches or artillery barrages - must be very great. And so this poem shows us, as it shakes us with its exuberant vitality. Thank you again for another of these gems. 

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4 hours ago, Lyssa said:

" We are so passionate about being " this line sums the whole poem up, doesn`t it. Feeling the simple need to be, to live another day. How painful, how basic and how human this is.  The atmosphere and scenery which Hans created in its dark and smoke filled facets arises through your artful translation in my minds eye. 🙂

Thank you, Lyssa, for your help on this poem and sharing your thoughts here. To me this is a very sensual and erotic poem. Under the ring of stars, men like Hans -- who have no need or interest in the pale-fleshed bordello ladies -- can lay out in the tall summer grass and watch the stars. They can also, hidden in the night, indulge in suppressed longing for ultimate connection with one another. Being "drunk" makes a tidy excuse for not remembering what was shared and felt. And yet, Hans seems to be saying if these connections, man to man and direct, make it past the fading of dawn, then a bleached and honest life can be led. 

I love this poem  

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12 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

After what the soldier has seen and lived, the passion about being - about life without trenches or artillery barrages - must be very great. And so this poem shows us, as it shakes us with its exuberant vitality. Thank you again for another of these gems. 

Thank you, Parker. I know there is much I miss in these poems. I'd get these literary allusions if I were an expert on German literature, but I'm not. But now and then, Hans flashes a brilliance easy for me to see from English-language references. Here he shows his love for Walt Whitman! Not only with the "O!"s of each line of the second Quatrain, but in presenting language that's choppy and dramatic. These trait of Whitman's are also essential elements of that poet's work. Thus I have tried to bring a certain Whitmanesque wordiness to these four lines in English. 

Thank you again for reading and supporting my efforts with this war poems. Muah

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these men are stripped of their humanity for most of their time serving ... yet here on leave they claw it back. These poems show that, truly, all that matters to us really is our connection to those we love. in these times sex and closeness is all that keeps us sane and human.

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11 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

these men are stripped of their humanity for most of their time serving ... yet here on leave they claw it back. These poems show that, truly, all that matters to us really is our connection to those we love. in these times sex and closeness is all that keeps us sane and human.

Thank you, Tim. Naturally, I'm just coming to understated these poems too, but several times Hans makes an explicit connection between human sexual expression against the backdrop of the night sky. Perhaps at moments like these, alone or with colleagues, the purer essence of what it simply means to have human life is confronted. It brings out a metaphor (or a reality) of how sex can connect us to the primal and spiritual at the same time. These are fascinating poems, and gain a whole dimension when he introduces elements of religion into them, which he sometimes does. 

Thank you, as always, for reading and sharing your thoughts ❤️   

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