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)
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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