Poem
Jan Wagner
REQUIEM FOR A HAIRDRESSER
he always rested on mondays. now monday's here to stay.so cover the mirrors, make blunt the scissors' blade.
who'd let another's fingers lather and rinse and knead
while clouds of shampoo gathered? who could command his suite
of bottles and perfumes, massage in essential oils,
with such a slender hand? who'll toe the pedals,
allow the blow-dryers' organ to roar, who'll open the flues?
take black from the palette, mix it with lighter hues.
for from today no gorgeous gown will gently sink
to cover our clothes, and whosoever stops to think
will search in vain, bereft, and never know for what,
except that hair keeps growing, and left will never stop.
REQUIEM FÜR EINEN FRISEUR
REQUIEM FÜR EINEN FRISEUR
weil montags alles ruht, nun alles montag bleibt,verhängt die spiegel. nehmt der schere ihren schneid.
wer ließe finger kneten, kreisen, bis die wolke
des shampoos aufzieht über uns, wer dirigierte sein gefolge
von fläschchen und den duft, die öle im regal
mit einer schmalen hand? wer wirft die große orgel
aus fönen an und läßt sie brausen, läßt sie schwellen?
nehmt von den farben schwarz, vermischt es mit den hellen.
weil jetzt kein umhang mehr so prachtvoll, langsam wie ein zelt
herabsinkt überm körper, und wer innehält
nicht länger weiß, was es zu finden gilt, wonach zu suchen,
nur daß die haare weiter wachsen, weiter wuchern.
From: Regentonnenvariationen
Publisher: Hanser Berlin Verlag, Berlin
Publisher: Hanser Berlin Verlag, Berlin
Poems
Poems of Jan Wagner
Close
REQUIEM FOR A HAIRDRESSER
he always rested on mondays. now monday's here to stay.so cover the mirrors, make blunt the scissors' blade.
who'd let another's fingers lather and rinse and knead
while clouds of shampoo gathered? who could command his suite
of bottles and perfumes, massage in essential oils,
with such a slender hand? who'll toe the pedals,
allow the blow-dryers' organ to roar, who'll open the flues?
take black from the palette, mix it with lighter hues.
for from today no gorgeous gown will gently sink
to cover our clothes, and whosoever stops to think
will search in vain, bereft, and never know for what,
except that hair keeps growing, and left will never stop.
From: Regentonnenvariationen
REQUIEM FOR A HAIRDRESSER
he always rested on mondays. now monday's here to stay.so cover the mirrors, make blunt the scissors' blade.
who'd let another's fingers lather and rinse and knead
while clouds of shampoo gathered? who could command his suite
of bottles and perfumes, massage in essential oils,
with such a slender hand? who'll toe the pedals,
allow the blow-dryers' organ to roar, who'll open the flues?
take black from the palette, mix it with lighter hues.
for from today no gorgeous gown will gently sink
to cover our clothes, and whosoever stops to think
will search in vain, bereft, and never know for what,
except that hair keeps growing, and left will never stop.
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