Poem
Jan Wagner
CENTAURS’ BLUES
we have poisoned all the heroes, taught princes and their heirs,we have poisoned all the heroes, got drunk and put on airs,
and all was ruined anyway and made unfair.
where does the rider start? where does the steed end?
who can know if he is steed or rider in the end?
something paused – and something galloped, gathering speed.
our mother was a cloud, she watched us grow up together.
until some darker clouds began to gather,
speeding between our legs through grass and heather,
and us, confused with plunder, with steaming animal skins,
making a racket in forests back then. no steaming skins,
no clatter now of hooves. and the night is blinding.
but if you stand at the river: search through the mist
for our familiar shapes. trust we still exist.
KENTAURENBLUES
KENTAURENBLUES
wir haben helden vergiftet, prinzen gelehrt,haben helden vergiftet, faß um faß geleert,
und doch war alles irgendwie verkehrt.
wo hört das roß auf, wo beginnt der reiter?
wer weiß schon, ob er roß ist oder reiter?
etwas hielt inne. etwas galoppierte weiter.
die mutter, eine wolke, die uns aufzog,
bis jene düsterere wolke aufzog,
unter den fesseln durch die wiesen flog –
und wir, berauscht vom raub, mit dampfendem fell,
ein lärm in den wäldern. heute dampft kein fell,
klappert kein huf mehr, und die nacht ist grell.
wenn du am fluß stehst aber, suche im dunst
nach den vertrauten schemen. rechne mit uns.
From: Regentonnenvariationen
Publisher: Hanser Berlin Verlag, Berlin
Publisher: Hanser Berlin Verlag, Berlin
Poems
Poems of Jan Wagner
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CENTAURS’ BLUES
we have poisoned all the heroes, taught princes and their heirs,we have poisoned all the heroes, got drunk and put on airs,
and all was ruined anyway and made unfair.
where does the rider start? where does the steed end?
who can know if he is steed or rider in the end?
something paused – and something galloped, gathering speed.
our mother was a cloud, she watched us grow up together.
until some darker clouds began to gather,
speeding between our legs through grass and heather,
and us, confused with plunder, with steaming animal skins,
making a racket in forests back then. no steaming skins,
no clatter now of hooves. and the night is blinding.
but if you stand at the river: search through the mist
for our familiar shapes. trust we still exist.
From: Regentonnenvariationen
CENTAURS’ BLUES
we have poisoned all the heroes, taught princes and their heirs,we have poisoned all the heroes, got drunk and put on airs,
and all was ruined anyway and made unfair.
where does the rider start? where does the steed end?
who can know if he is steed or rider in the end?
something paused – and something galloped, gathering speed.
our mother was a cloud, she watched us grow up together.
until some darker clouds began to gather,
speeding between our legs through grass and heather,
and us, confused with plunder, with steaming animal skins,
making a racket in forests back then. no steaming skins,
no clatter now of hooves. and the night is blinding.
but if you stand at the river: search through the mist
for our familiar shapes. trust we still exist.
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