To the Silenced: An die Verstummten (ARC Publications Translation series)

By Georg Trakl

Even supposing the Austrian poet Georg Trakl used to be born over a century in the past, the mesmerising imagery and haunting visions of his hugely delicate and morbidly intro-spective poems are as robust this day as they have been whilst he wrote them. A resource of thought for artists, musicians and writers in the course of the Expressionist interval and past, Trakl's poetry - bleak, but revealing tenderness and wish, nightmarish but eerily appealing - should be savoured to the whole in Will Stone's new translation of a consultant collection of Trakl's best paintings (complete with introductory essays and commentary), a quantity which grants to re-light curiosity within the paintings of this seminal poet.

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Langsam reift die Traube, das Korn. Wenn sich stille der Tag neigt, Ist ein Gutes und Böses bereitet. Wenn es Nacht wird, Hebt der Wanderer leise die schweren Lider; Sonne aus finsterer Schlucht bricht. THE sunlight (DIE SONNE) day-by-day the sunlight comes over the hill. attractive is the woodland, the darkish beast, guy, hunter or shepherd. Ruddy rises the fish within the eco-friendly pond. underneath rounded skies The fisherman strikes softly in a blue boat. Slowly ripens the grape, the corn. As day closes in stillness, a great and an evil is ready. while evening comes The wayfarer softly lifts his heavy lids; solar breaks from a depressing abyss. FÖHN (FÖHN) Blinde Klage im Wind, mondene Wintertage, Kindheit, leise verhallen die Schritte an schwarzer Hecke Langes Abendgeläut. Leise kommt die weiße Nacht gezogen, Verwandelt in purpurne Träume Schmerz und Plage Des steinigen Lebens, Daß nimmer der dornige Stachel ablasse vom verwesenden Leib. Tief im Schlummer aufseufzt die bange Seele, Tief der Wind in zerbrochenen Bäumen, Und es schwankt die Klagegestalt Der Mutter durch den einsamen Wald Dieser schweigenden Trauer; Nächte, Erfüllt von Tränen, feurigen Engeln. Silbern zerschellt an kahler Mauer ein kindlich Gerippe. FÖHN (FÖHN) Blind lament within the wind, lunar iciness days, early life, softly footsteps fade via the black hedge, lengthy chime of night. Softly the white evening slinks in, Turns to purple desires the soreness and plague Of stony lifestyles, That by no means could the thorny barb relent from the decaying physique. Deep in shut eye sighs the apprehensive soul. Deep the wind in shattered bushes And the lamenting determine of the mum Sways during the lonely wooden Of this speechless grief; nights packed with tears and angels afire. Silver, opposed to naked partitions a toddler skeleton shatters. WINTERNACHT (WINTER evening) Es ist Schnee gefallen. Nach Mitternacht verlässt du betrunken von purpurnem Wein den dunklen Bezirk der Menschen, die rote Flamme ihres Herdes. O die Finsternis! Schwarzer Frost. Die Erde ist hart, nach Bitterem schmeckt die Luft. Deine Sterne schließen sich zu bösen Zeichen. Mit versteinerten Schritten stampfst du am Bahn-damm hin, mit runden Augen, wie ein Soldat, der eine schwarze Schanze stürmt. Avanti! Bitterer Schnee und Mond! Ein roter Wolf, den ein Engel würgt. Deine Beine klirren schreitend wie blaues Eis und ein Lächeln voll Trauer und Hochmut hat dein Antlitz versteinert und die Stirne erbleicht vor der Wollust des Frostes; oder sie neigt sich schweigend über den Schlaf eines Wächters, der in seiner hölzernen Hütte hinsank. Frost und Rauch. Ein weißes Sternenhemd vebrennt die tragenden Schultern und Gottes Geier zerfleischen dein metallenes Herz. O der steinerne Hügel. Stille schmilzt und vergessen der külhle Leib im silbernen Schnee hin. Schwarz ist der Schlaf. Das Ohr folgt lange den Pfaden der Sterne im Eis. Beim Erwachen klangen die Glocken im Dorf. Aus dem östlichen Tor trat silbern der rosige Tag. wintry weather evening (WINTERNACHT) Snow has fallen. After middle of the night inebriated on red wine, you go away the darkish district of guys, the crimson flame in their fireplace.

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