The Thousandth Regiment - 27. "Like splendid scarlet flowers arranged for show"

An other outstanding translation. With each sonnet Hans seems to be more aware of his near death. It is heartbreaking. The sources I have read say, that Hans edited this collection to its final state (in which it was published later) during his last visit home in the beginning of June 1915. This is also the last time, he saw his partner Murnau. And it is heartbreaking to read how aware he was about his fate, that he had to go back, being that aware. 

Gut wrenching. ..I've read a few WWI poets now ... including our own. It's striking how alike they sound.

22 hours ago, Lyssa said:

An other outstanding translation. With each sonnet Hans seems to be more aware of his near death. It is heartbreaking. The sources I have read say, that Hans edited this collection to its final state (in which it was published later) during his last visit home in the beginning of June 1915. This is also the last time, he saw his partner Murnau. And it is heartbreaking to read how aware he was about his fate, that he had to go back, being that aware. 

 

I am not surprised at all to find source evidence that Hans himself ordered these poems. There is great artistry as unfold to those still moments when he was home again, recovering. All the time he was in uniform, I imagine he was writing non-war poems too. It would be so wonderful to see the wonderful love tokens he undoubtedly put in his letters to Wilhelm...I hope they survive somewhere. But at least some of the other poems in Gedichte must come from after the war started.

Thank you, Lyssa, as always for reading, commenting and supporting me. Muah

16 hours ago, MichaelS36 said:

Gut wrenching. ..I've read a few WWI poets now ... including our own. It's striking how alike they sound.

 

I agree, and I have tried to stick to vocabulary current when these poems were written. But word choices from poets like Sassoon and Rosenberg truly echo Hans' sentiments; that's been a bit eerie to discover. Men across the lines were actually artificial enemies -- many could have been fast friends if circumstances had been different. 

Thank you once again, Mike. I always appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts  

This is another indictment of the terrible waste and tragedy of this war, or any war. Hans’ images remind me of the startling poses of the newly dead (like flowers arranged for show). This is just one of the unhappy images he captures with his all-too-accurate pen. And you have adapted his originals to our English language modern ear, so that we can read and remember. 

21 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

This is another indictment of the terrible waste and tragedy of this war, or any war. Hans’ images remind me of the startling poses of the newly dead (like flowers arranged for show). This is just one of the unhappy images he captures with his all-too-accurate pen. And you have adapted his originals to our English language modern ear, so that we can read and remember. 

You are right about the flowers. Reading your comment here, I can see them now arrayed into a wreath. A wreath to be placed on a grave, or used in a funeral. That is the wonderful thing about great poetry; the images can be preserved and interpreted fresh each time. No one way is the right way, if the translation is handled sympathetically. (The wreath image ties into the final poem of the series No. 37, incidentally...)

Thank you, Parker, for this. And also for all of your support  

this is more heartbreaking than the next one ... the poppies just did me in...

On 10/1/2019 at 5:04 PM, Mikiesboy said:

this is more heartbreaking than the next one ... the poppies just did me in...

Thank you, Tim. I'm afraid this poem begins the final sequence, and they are all this intense, if not more so. However, Hans does not close the series in bleakness. His inner strength held out the belief in the people's ultimate power of reform and goodness. It's a tradition of hope we must carry forward today. 

Thanks again for reading and commenting on these. Muah