(Reposted once more. Read the English translation at further down.)
________________________
Sonntagskind:
Ich habe keine Worte.
Nur Tränen.
Du bist auch kein Freund vieler Worte, großer Gesten.
Also kein Gedicht.
Nur, es ist so –
Unsere Tränen,
Uns selbst überlassen, sind ein gewaltiger Strom, der alles hinwegreißt.
– also, macht nicht so ein Theater
Und doch ist es dieselbe Welt,
Dieselbe Welt,
– natürlich ist sie das
Dieselbe Welt, in der Schmetterlinge sich an den ersten Blüten freuen,
Schafe (Ostern glücklich überstanden) das frische Grün genießen.
Katzen in der Sonne liegen.
– eben
Dieselbe Welt, in der Du aufgebrochen bist, Dein Leben zu leben,
Allem zum Trotz:
Krieg, Hunger, Not, Vertreibung
(Und trotzig bis zuletzt).
– wer sagt denn das
Dieselbe Welt, in der Du ohne Aufhebens
Stets
Für andere da warst:
Kinder, Enkel, Katzen.
– dann laß es jetzt gut sein
Dieselbe Welt.
Derselbe Gott.
Unermeßlich Seine Maßstäbe:
Unermeßlich im Leid.
Unermeßlich in der Not.
Unermeßlich im Tod.
Ein mächtiger Gott.
Darum, oh Gott:
Unermeßlich sei auch
Deine Gnade,
Dein Trost,
Dein Frieden –
Unsere Hoffnung.
Und dann ist es gut.
– na also
________________________
Sunday’s child:
I have no words,
Only tears.
You have never been one for grand gestures or speeches.
No poem, then.
It’s just that –
Our tears,
Left to their own devices, will turn into a roaring river that sweeps us away.
– don’t make such a fuss
And yet it is the same world.
The same world.
– of course it is
The same world of butterflies enjoying the first flowers,
Of sheep (happy survivors of Easter) frolicking in fresh green meadows,
Of cats lying in the sun.
– indeed
The same world, in which you went on to build your life.
Defiant. In spite of it all:
War, hunger, poverty, flight.
(Defiant. In spite of it all to the very end.)
– who says that
The same world, in which you cared ceaselessly
Quietly
For others:
Children, grandchildren, cats.
– then all is well and leave it be
The same world.
The same God.
Boundless He is:
Boundless in agony.
Boundless in anguish.
Boundless in death.
A powerful God.
Therefore, oh God, we ask:
Be boundless, too,
In Your grace,
In Your solace,
In Your peace –
Our hope.
And then all is well.
– there you go
________________________
© all mine; 2002
I knew I shouldn’t have clicked that at work. Cuz now I’m crying on a manuscript.
Thanks for reposting that. And *hugs*.
I haven’t cried – yet – … but I have this steady ache in my heart, and it’s been there for such a long time now … and it’s not going away … *sigh*
Oh, Gott. That’s so much beauty and so much pain all wrapped up in one.
Thank you.
Grandmothers ought to be celebrated. May your grandmother’s soul be in peace.
Thank you. I loved her very much. And I still miss her. *sigh*
Beautiful poem.
Thank you. I read it at the funeral much to my mother’s discomfiture. But for me it brought some closure. Words help that way sometimes.
You can never “get over” some things, nor should you.
Lovely poem.
mk
It was I think you call it “open coffin” ceremony for the funeral? So family and friends had the opportunity to say goodbye. Anyway, I read the poem at that occasion. I’d like to think that somehow she could still hear it …
Your poem is such a lovely tribute to your grandmother. I got a lump in my throat as I read it and thought of my grandmothers.
Oh, this was beautiful.