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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 - 5. "We carry the firmament's heavy white heat"

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5. Wir tragen an des Himmels Weißglut schwer

Auf den Tornistern und den heißen Helmen.

Wir haben wohl das Mienenspiel von Schelmen

Und wissen von uns selbst kein Lächeln mehr.


Wir tränken gerne die Pfützen an den Wegen

Mit dürren Backenknochen gierig leer.

Wir würden uns in allen Unrat legen,

Um auszuruhn und wenns Sekunden wär.


Die Blasen an den wunden Sohlen schmerzen,

Eiterndes Eisen; und wie arme Seelen

Rennen wir durch das höllische heiße Land.


Wir sind ja hin und völlig ausgebrannt.

Da lässt der Hauptmann Singen anbefehlen.

Auf unseren Lippen brechen unsere Herzen.

 

                              ---

 

5. We carry the firmament's heavy white heat

Upon our knapsacks, and in our helmets too.

Though we probably have the fixed grin of rogues,

We've forgotten how to smile about ourselves.

 

We like to sodden mud puddles on the paths

With barren cheekbones, avariciously blank.

We would lay us in any old sort of muck,

If it meant some sleep for a second or two.

 

The blisters on the ragged soles of our feet

Fester ferric iron; and so like our souls

Wish to run through this feverishly hot land.

 

We are entirely hollowed out, burned out,

But the captain suddenly orders us sing,

And our hearts break trying to get past our lips.

 

                              ---

 

 

_

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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To march under the blazing sun can be a torture inflicted on troops by their own officers; it has been so for many ages. Again you offer us a translation which transcends all conflicts and times, putting us in touch with the hurt and plight of the foot soldier. We feel the heat, the pain, and the need to forge gamely on. 

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2 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

To march under the blazing sun can be a torture inflicted on troops by their own officers; it has been so for many ages. Again you offer us a translation which transcends all conflicts and times, putting us in touch with the hurt and plight of the foot soldier. We feel the heat, the pain, and the need to forge gamely on. 

Yes, you remind me how George Patton had a vision when he arrived at a place. He saw and remembered a day of battle there, as a foot soldier, in ancient times. Patton and all in uniform would understand the feelings Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele is expressing here.

Thank you for reading and commenting :)

 

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As I said before, this translation fits perfect the original. And I can only agree with @Parker Owensabout the impression, which are transported. 🙂

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This brings chills … the sadness, hopelessness; hollowed out is perfect to describe them

The last line, if that doesn't tug, nothing will. 

Incredible work. Your translations are beautiful. 

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14 hours ago, Lyssa said:

As I said before, this translation fits perfect the original. And I can only agree with @Parker Owensabout the impression, which are transported. 🙂

Yes, I posted my version of this poem in a status update. It was the first of Ehrenbaum-Degele's war poems that you shared with me. It is a special one though; he says so much by painting a couple of pictures and then punctuating at the end with honest emotion. It turns out this formula makes his war poems very relatable and powerful. Once again, thank you for introducing me to his work. I feel honored 

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14 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

These are reports, a diary. I look for feeling but find resignation, and pain.

Yes, I feel this No. 5 is a very special poem. There are lots of honest emotions shown in such few words. 

Thanks for always being there for me, Tim. I really appreciate it :)

 

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11 hours ago, MichaelS36 said:

This brings chills … the sadness, hopelessness; hollowed out is perfect to describe them

The last line, if that doesn't tug, nothing will. 

Incredible work. Your translations are beautiful. 

Thank you, Mike. I do think this poem No. 5 is a special one. Ehrenbaum-Degele says so much in the vignettes he paints, and then hits us with something real and emotional. These are elements in his poetry that I really respond to. 

Thank you for reading and supporting these, and my other works too. You're the best :)  

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When we were young, listening to our Papou’s stories from the war sounded like an adventure. Crossing the river Rhine had become a punchline. That was until we knew better and understood some of what he wasn’t saying. 

Each time I read one of these I’m startled by the fact that I’ll never full grasp the barbarity of the conditions and the deep emotional toll on these men. I shouldn’t be, but I am. 

As I often say to the poets here, I admire when you can let your pain bleed through your words. I like to imagine it was a small help for Hans to unburden himself this way. 

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19 hours ago, Defiance19 said:

When we were young, listening to our Papou’s stories from the war sounded like an adventure. Crossing the river Rhine had become a punchline. That was until we knew better and understood some of what he wasn’t saying. 

Each time I read one of these I’m startled by the fact that I’ll never full grasp the barbarity of the conditions and the deep emotional toll on these men. I shouldn’t be, but I am. 

As I often say to the poets here, I admire when you can let your pain bleed through your words. I like to imagine it was a small help for Hans to unburden himself this way. 

Thank you, Def. I think Ehrenbaum-Degele's words are doing their job, for no matter how much a person can know about another's experience, it takes a poet to give it the context of an emotional setting. Some people avoid reliving these feelings, but poets often write to get them out and forgotten. I don't know if this is the case with Hans, but he was a master of painting stark, modern snapshots of action punctuated with rather simple statements of feelings. In my book, to be able to do that well, as he so clearly can, makes one a master poet. I feel honored to be able to work with his words.

Thanks again for reading and sharing your thoughts. They are always appreciated  

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