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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 - 8. "Suddenly the woods are shorn by a ravine"

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8. Jäh ist der Wald von einer Schlucht zerrissen,

In der die Flut der Sonne grell gerinnt.

Wall und Gebüsche starren wie Kulissen,

Die rätselbunt und voll Erwartung sind.

 

Wir laden zagend. Und die Finger wissen

Das gleitende Geheimnis der Patronen,

Die noch so glatt in den Gewehren wohnen

Und doch so hungrig sind nach roten Bissen.

 

Vorn, vor der grünenden Traverse, steigen

Die weißen Scheiben, Uhren unsrer Zeit,

Wie Schwäne still, verzauberter Gestalt.

 

Wir sind zu jedem Mord sinnlos bereit;

Und wie die Flüche der Sergeanten schweigen,

Hallen die Schüsse langhin durch den Wald.

 

                              ---

 

8. Suddenly the woods are shorn by a ravine,

In which the sun's tide congeals garishly.

Wall and bushes stare fixedly like backdrops,

Puzzled and yet expectant witnesses.

 

We load anxiously. And the fingers know the

Sightless way to slide in the cartridges,

Those who live so glibly in the smooth barrel

Yet go hungering for their bloody bites.

 

There, there behind the green parapet, now climb

The white sheets, the stopwatch of our timing,

The silent silver swans, enchanting figures.

 

Though we are senselessly poised for murder,

This time the curses of the sergeants are still,

Echoing but shots through the woods long ago.

 

                              ---

 

 

_

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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This sonnet creates a very special atmosphere. The description of the landscape, almost a fairy tale forest in expectation, gives the phrase "sinnlos bereit", Hans used in the last stanza, an even stronger meaning. A contrast, to let us participate his feelings. He already knows the wrongness of what he feels forced to do. The absurdity of human war in front of those forests. And he phrases it in the second stanza very clearly. Again a brilliant translation. 🙂

Edited by Lyssa
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There is so much in this. He's an experienced soldier now.. at least his muscles are. He's able to load without looking.  War is a senseless thing.

Yet go hungering for their bloody bites.   This line got to me most...that we go voluntarily to be shot ... 

 

Wonderful AC ... i hope you don't tire of me saying so.   xo

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This is another brilliant observation on war. The second stanza, with bullets personified, each waiting to take its bloody bite, felt especially powerful. Yet despite the moment of tense expectation, Hans cannot escape the green beauty and sense of deep time there - soon to be shattered forever. 

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This poem is a description of a patrol through the woods.  The shorn trees and parapet means a trench.  Knowing what could be down there, they load their weapons .. by feel, they are experienced enough now not to have to look.  Hungering for their bite … they are expecting to be shot or shot at. 

But the enemy in the trench .. possibly heard them coming and they raise the white sheets .. flags of surrender .. which look to the poet as shining swans.. and to tired soldiers.. they would be beautiful enchanting things. 

And the final stanza .. they were ready to shoot the men in the trench .. but flags stopped them.. and no orders came from their sergeants .. this battle was finished much before these German boys arrived... the shots fired still echo.

Wonderful AC. Brilliantly done.  

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On 8/15/2019 at 11:17 AM, Lyssa said:

This sonnet creates a very special atmosphere. The description of the landscape, almost a fairy tale forest in expectation, gives the phrase "sinnlos bereit", Hans used in the last stanza, an even stronger meaning. A contrast, to let us participate his feelings. He already knows the wrongness of what he feels forced to do. The absurdity of human war in front of those forests. And he phrases it in the second stanza very clearly. Again a brilliant translation. 🙂

I agree that the line Wie Schwäne still, verzauberter Gestalt ("Like silent swans, enchanting figures") brings a nursery rhyme character to the scene. Perhaps he's making the horrible analogy that the license of war to kill is something like "child's play," especially the longer the conflict drags out. It's horrible but brilliant. This time though the men in the trench won't be shot like fish in a barrel. 

Thank you once more, Lyssa, for your reading, comments and assistance. It means a lot to me 

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On 8/15/2019 at 7:25 PM, Mikiesboy said:

There is so much in this. He's an experienced soldier now.. at least his muscles are. He's able to load without looking.  War is a senseless thing.

Yet go hungering for their bloody bites.   This line got to me most...that we go voluntarily to be shot ... 

 

Wonderful AC ... i hope you don't tire of me saying so.   xo

Ha-ha, Tim, I won't tire of hearing you say I'm wonderful as long as you don't tire of me being wonderful ;)

But seriously, your comment about war being senseless, in the literal sense, makes me think how soldiers will say about a dangerous situations: "Training kicked in and we were okay." Yes, it matters that the muscles remember what to do when the brain is otherwise in shock. It seems to be only later (PTSD...) that the sights seen, and actions committed, catch up to the person. That is a horrible aspect of war too, for the survivors. 

Thank you again for all your support, for reading and commenting. You're the best

Edited by AC Benus
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18 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

I agree that the line Wie Schwäne still, verzauberter Gestalt ("Like silent swans, enchanting figures") brings a nursery rhyme character to the scene. Perhaps he's making the horrible analogy that the license of war to kill is something like "child's play," especially the longer the conflict drags out. It's horrible but brilliant. This time though the men in the trench won't be shot like fish in a barrel. 

Thank you once more, Lyssa, for your reading, comments and assistance. It means a lot to me 

Yes, horrible but brilliant. Logically I have more emotional access to the German version than to the English, because I am German. And while reading the German version a very irritating and cruel effect in my ear happens. The rhythem compared with the words is very musical, almost soft and every time I get used to this melody words and phrases appear, which cut into the melody like a whip. Like a disharmonic chord, which hits my nerves and resounds almost physical painfully.

Edited by Lyssa
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13 minutes ago, Lyssa said:

Yes, horrible but brilliant. Logically I have more emotional access to the German version than to the English, because I am German. And while reading the German version a very irritating and cruel effect in my ear happens. The rhythem compared with the words is very musical, almost soft and every time I get used to this melody words and phrases appear, which cut into the melody like a whip. Like a disharmonic chord, which hits my nerves and resounds almost physical painfully.

We have discussed how Hans can conjure language that serves more than one purpose. Many of his pieces have a surface appearance (in terms of message) that "can pass" as something expected (like standard patriotism in some of the war sonnets), but the words themselves carry an initiated meaning just below the surface. He's one of the most subtle poets of this craft I have encountered, and I find myself seeking these second meanings in his work. 

Your comments here are helpful; maybe I should try again with this poem to achieve that nursery rhyme quality in the sounds and rhythms too. That would be a difficult task though....    

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On 8/16/2019 at 6:16 AM, Parker Owens said:

This is another brilliant observation on war. The second stanza, with bullets personified, each waiting to take its bloody bite, felt especially powerful. Yet despite the moment of tense expectation, Hans cannot escape the green beauty and sense of deep time there - soon to be shattered forever. 

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts, Parker. Many readers -- including me -- are struck by the bullets hungering for their bloody bites. It's almost a stopping line in the poem, but it seems to set up a transition to the "misfire" of the surrendering by the men inside of the trench. I find it a fascinating poem. 

Thanks again for all of your support. I appreciate it a great deal

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16 hours ago, MichaelS36 said:

This poem is a description of a patrol through the woods.  The shorn trees and parapet means a trench.  Knowing what could be down there, they load their weapons .. by feel, they are experienced enough now not to have to look.  Hungering for their bite … they are expecting to be shot or shot at. 

But the enemy in the trench .. possibly heard them coming and they raise the white sheets .. flags of surrender .. which look to the poet as shining swans.. and to tired soldiers.. they would be beautiful enchanting things. 

And the final stanza .. they were ready to shoot the men in the trench .. but flags stopped them.. and no orders came from their sergeants .. this battle was finished much before these German boys arrived... the shots fired still echo.

Wonderful AC. Brilliantly done.  

Thank you for reading and commenting, Mike. As you know, I'm debating changing "white sheets" (which is a literal translation from the poem) to "white flags," so there is no question about what is happening in the scene. I'm still not sure about it... 

I think you summarize the poem perfectly, or at least as perfectly as I can understand the original. There are always questions if I could have said things better, but reading this kind of synopsis of what you "see" from the words helps me know I am reaching my goals.

Thanks again for all your great support. Muah  

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