The following is for you, Alison - vale atque ave (I believe there is an
existent translation of this, but cannot check as I don't possess it - I
trust that mine is sufficiently different to re-illuminate the original).
Defunct language
The one beating his wings
outside, grazing the door,
that is your brother, you hear him.
/Laurio /he says, water,
curved, colourless, deep.
That came down with the river,
drifting round mussel and
snail, a fanshaped plant,
in the sand and was green.
/Warne /he says and /wittan/,
the crow has no tree,
I have the power to kiss you,
I live in your ear.
Tell him you don't
want to hear him -
he comes, an otter, he comes
hornetswarming, he screeches,
a cricket, he grows with the moor
under your house, whispering
in the springs, /smordis /you hear,
your black dogwood will wither,
it will die on the fence tomorrow.
Johannes Bobrowski "Gestorbene Sprache"
--
One must be prepared for a piece of music which is laden with symbols: bells, Poltergeist knocks and grotesque figues. Kasper Rofelt.
