Friday, October 26, 2018

Lyric published at POETS The Original from 22.10. till 25.10.2018



The Ship of Dreams

The ship of dreams casts off
And sails out into the night
Out of the safe harbor
Out into rough seas
The backwash fluoresces in blue

All waves burst at the bow
The lights dwindle with the ride
And the night is still driving us on
And the promise continues to drive us
Then only flickering starlight

Later the gyrated candles flicker
And wine sparkles in chalices

The music opens to the dance
But the ship sails back into the harbor


Das Schiff der Träume

Das Schiff der Träume legt ab
Und fährt hinAus in die Nacht
HinAus aus sicherem Hafen
HinAus in rauhere See
Das KielWasser fluoresziert in Blau

Sämtliche Wellen bersten am Bug
Die Lichter schwinden mit der Fahrt
Und weiter treibt uns die Nacht vorAn
Und weiter treibt uns die Verheißung
Dann nur noch flackerndes SternLicht

Später flackern dann Kerzen
Der Wein funkelt in Pokalen

Die Musik spielt auf zum Tanz
Aber das Schiff fährt in den Hafen


© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (picture and poem)
Ahwas (اهواز)


Universe

Spanning above and around us – the universe
So vast in time and space – our universe
But every human is a universe as well
Let’s salute us and the whole universe

Big bang and after this
Billions of years of silence
ENTER mankind – just a flash
EXIT man, then silence again

Matter is rare in this universe
Rather emptiness is expanding
In all the empty mess of this universe
There is a small marble – our earth

When our marble will be too small
When we’ll reach out for the stars
When we’ll boldly go
Where no man went before

Then we’ll fathom the emptiness of Zen
And shall be one with the universe


© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (poem)




Across Stubble Fields

The barren stubble field
The scarecrows do not complain
But their laughter has gone

Stumble past them
Through night and fog
Without the warmth of the stars

Your muddy track
Will be blurred by the rain
But you move on

The smell of your sweat
Will be carried on by the wind
Because you move on

But you will not find anything
Except for stubble fields
So what keeps you moving on?

The fog knows it
The night knows too
And you conceive it slowly


© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (picture and poem)
Yasd (يزد)


Autumn rain
Running down the window
Steam of a tea cup

© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (picture and poem)



Flags

They raise the flags
Flying above the battlements
In the colors of the rainbow

Red, orange, yellow, green
Blue, indigo and black
And black

Red like your cheeks and heavy wine
Orange as the morning dawn
Yellow like the sun at high noon

Green like Walther’s meadow with flowers
Blue as the sky after the storm
Indigo like your most beautiful dress

And black
Like mourning for war and death
And black as a reminder of all the good


Walther – Walther von der Vogelweide (1170-1230), „schône beide / gebrochen bluomen unde gras“ (middle high German) „Wie wir beide / Die Blumen brachen und das Gras“ (contemporary German) [How we both broke the flowers and the grass].

© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (picture and poem)
Ahwas (اهواز)


David McMurray of the Asahi Haikuist Network selected the following HAIKU:

“Lothar M. Kirsch strolled along the Rhine at Rheinpark in Cologne.”
River kiosk
still selling refreshments
despite the wind

“A fan of Pink Floyd for 50 years, Lothar M. Kirsch visited a music exhibition for the iconic rock band in Dortmund, Germany. “
Hey! Teachers!
no brick in the wall
cheerful memories

“Lothar M. Kirsch sketches “villagers in Tibet walking around the fields after the harvest.””
After the harvest
scarecrow joins villagers
dancing merrily

© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (poems)



Do not Sing Your Song in the Desert

Through the wild Lurestan, past rugged rocks
The fields are withered besides the trails
The rain dancer did not understand his business
We paused and sweat dripped off our foreheads
The water bag was empty and crackéd

There was no life or water down in the valley
Because water means life and no water is death
Where did the people go? Where was the land?
There we sang a song about Lurestan and his fields
A sad song of a withered and dying land

But then the rain came in the middle of the night
We drank from the puddle next to us

We went from the desert to a village surrounded by greenery
And joined singing the happy songs of Lurestan

Kermanschah (
کرمانشاه)
© 2018 Lothar M. Kirsch (picture and poem)



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