Poem
Monika Rinck
cowboycraft
honest like the horsebetween my knees
(Johnny Cash)
i am like a cowboy so sensitive, able to enter
the minds of the horses, the cattle, the edge
of the rocky mountains, i can from the distance
aim at the many birds and from their feathers
knot mosaics, which the founding fathers show
through all kinds of performances like forging, sweeping,
making fire, building churches, spawning children.
i can survive in the mountains and read the weather
from the moose, from the swan’s throat
curved handle that through dryness is a rope,
through humid weather rolled up like a tail.
certainly sometimes there are these mountain nights,
where the knife drops from my hand, like something
that in this life I do no longer need
where, when the lukewarm fire heatless sours, my heart
shrinks to a bird muscle’s size
then all animals around me are so different,
and also the moose is lifeless hard. then i am like a
cowboy so sensitive, a sensitive cowboy apparatus.
© Translation: 2004, Donald Berger
cowboyhandwerk
cowboyhandwerk
honest like the horsebetween my knees
(Johnny Cash)
ich bin wie ein cowboy so sensibel, kann mich
in die pferde denken, in die rinder, in den rand
der rocky mountains, ich kann aus der ferne
auf die vielen vögel zielen und aus ihren federn
mosaike knüpfen, die die gründerväter zeigen
bei allerlei verrichtungen wie schmieden, fegen,
feuer machen, kirchen bauen, kinder zeugen.
ich kann in den bergen überleben und das wetter
aus den moosen lesen, aus dem schwanenhals
gebognen stiel, der bei trockenheit ein strick ist,
bei feuchtem wetter aufgerollt wird wie ein schwanz.
doch manchmal gibt es diese nächte in den bergen,
wo mir das messer von der hand geht, wie etwas,
das ich in diesem leben nicht mehr brauchen kann.
wo, wenn das laue feuer glutlos müpfelt mein herz
mir auf die größe eines vogelmuskels schrumpft.
dann sind alle tiere um mich rum verschieden,
und auch die moose leblos hart. dann bin ich wie ein
cowboy so sensibel, ein sensibler cowboyapparat.
© 2004, zu Klampen! Verlag
From: Monika Rinck: Verzückte Distanzen. Gedichte
Publisher: Zu Klampen! Verlag. Edition Postskriptum: Springe, Germany 2004.
From: Monika Rinck: Verzückte Distanzen. Gedichte
Publisher: Zu Klampen! Verlag. Edition Postskriptum: Springe, Germany 2004.
Poems
Poems of Monika Rinck
Close
cowboycraft
honest like the horsebetween my knees
(Johnny Cash)
i am like a cowboy so sensitive, able to enter
the minds of the horses, the cattle, the edge
of the rocky mountains, i can from the distance
aim at the many birds and from their feathers
knot mosaics, which the founding fathers show
through all kinds of performances like forging, sweeping,
making fire, building churches, spawning children.
i can survive in the mountains and read the weather
from the moose, from the swan’s throat
curved handle that through dryness is a rope,
through humid weather rolled up like a tail.
certainly sometimes there are these mountain nights,
where the knife drops from my hand, like something
that in this life I do no longer need
where, when the lukewarm fire heatless sours, my heart
shrinks to a bird muscle’s size
then all animals around me are so different,
and also the moose is lifeless hard. then i am like a
cowboy so sensitive, a sensitive cowboy apparatus.
© 2004, Donald Berger
From: Monika Rinck: Verzückte Distanzen. Gedichte
From: Monika Rinck: Verzückte Distanzen. Gedichte
cowboycraft
honest like the horsebetween my knees
(Johnny Cash)
i am like a cowboy so sensitive, able to enter
the minds of the horses, the cattle, the edge
of the rocky mountains, i can from the distance
aim at the many birds and from their feathers
knot mosaics, which the founding fathers show
through all kinds of performances like forging, sweeping,
making fire, building churches, spawning children.
i can survive in the mountains and read the weather
from the moose, from the swan’s throat
curved handle that through dryness is a rope,
through humid weather rolled up like a tail.
certainly sometimes there are these mountain nights,
where the knife drops from my hand, like something
that in this life I do no longer need
where, when the lukewarm fire heatless sours, my heart
shrinks to a bird muscle’s size
then all animals around me are so different,
and also the moose is lifeless hard. then i am like a
cowboy so sensitive, a sensitive cowboy apparatus.
© 2004, Donald Berger
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