Poem
Uljana Wolf
postscript to the kreisau dogs
who says that poems are like these dogssurrounded by their own echo at the village core
of the waiting and pawing at half moon
of the stubborn marking of language terrains –
he knows you not, you frantic barkers
cassandras in wallachia’s sonic reverie
you bring what’s called and what’s calf
in a foolhardy bite from behind
together as if a leg were but a leaf
and the order of things a trade:
in one of my boots still the imprint
of your teeth, a gnarly four nips
that’s your reward for a pursuant verse
the world follows poetry at heel
© Translation: 2004, Brian Currid
nachtrag an die kreisauer hunde
nachtrag an die kreisauer hunde
wer sagt gedichte sind wie diese hundeim dorfkern vom eignen echo umstellt
vom warten und scharren bei halbmond
vom sturen markieren im sprachrevier
der kennt euch nicht ihr rasenden kläffer
kassandren im lautrausch der wallachei
denn ihr fügt was wort ist und was wade
hinterrücks in tollkühnem biss
zusammen als wär ein bein nur ein blatt
und die ordnung der dinge ein tausch:
in meinem stiefel noch der abdruck
eurer zähne – vom tacker vier zwacken
so lohnt ihr dem vers der euch nachlief
folgt welt wohl der dichtung bei fuß
© 2005, kookbooks
From: kochanie ich habe brot gekauft
Publisher: kookbooks, Berlin
From: kochanie ich habe brot gekauft
Publisher: kookbooks, Berlin
Poems
Poems of Uljana Wolf
Close
postscript to the kreisau dogs
who says that poems are like these dogssurrounded by their own echo at the village core
of the waiting and pawing at half moon
of the stubborn marking of language terrains –
he knows you not, you frantic barkers
cassandras in wallachia’s sonic reverie
you bring what’s called and what’s calf
in a foolhardy bite from behind
together as if a leg were but a leaf
and the order of things a trade:
in one of my boots still the imprint
of your teeth, a gnarly four nips
that’s your reward for a pursuant verse
the world follows poetry at heel
© 2004, Brian Currid
From: kochanie ich habe brot gekauft
From: kochanie ich habe brot gekauft
postscript to the kreisau dogs
who says that poems are like these dogssurrounded by their own echo at the village core
of the waiting and pawing at half moon
of the stubborn marking of language terrains –
he knows you not, you frantic barkers
cassandras in wallachia’s sonic reverie
you bring what’s called and what’s calf
in a foolhardy bite from behind
together as if a leg were but a leaf
and the order of things a trade:
in one of my boots still the imprint
of your teeth, a gnarly four nips
that’s your reward for a pursuant verse
the world follows poetry at heel
© 2004, Brian Currid
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère