INPM #4: In Memory of my Grandmother

(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

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12 Responses to INPM #4: In Memory of my Grandmother

  1. morelindo says:

    I knew I shouldn’t have clicked that at work. Cuz now I’m crying on a manuscript.
    Thanks for reposting that. And *hugs*.

    • admin says:

      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*

  2. Oh, Gott. That’s so much beauty and so much pain all wrapped up in one.

  3. septentrion1970 says:

    Grandmothers ought to be celebrated. May your grandmother’s soul be in peace.

  4. dickgloucester says:

    Beautiful poem.

    • admin says:

      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.

  5. mikekellner says:

    You can never “get over” some things, nor should you.

    Lovely poem.

    mk

    • admin says:

      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 …

  6. Beth says:

    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.

  7. shairi11 says:

    Oh, this was beautiful.

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