{"id":2599,"date":"2012-05-30T16:23:48","date_gmt":"2012-05-30T16:23:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=2599"},"modified":"2012-05-30T17:02:52","modified_gmt":"2012-05-30T17:02:52","slug":"sibyl-ruth-translates-peter-kien","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/sibyl-ruth-translates-peter-kien\/","title":{"rendered":"Sibyl Ruth translates Peter Kien"},"content":{"rendered":"

Four Poems
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

1.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Old days squatting at the edge of vision.<\/p>\n

I work it into an image, fix that in a frame.<\/p>\n

But it moves off just the same,<\/p>\n

leaving me to linger on in prison,<\/p>\n

like a gap in time ringed by frost,<\/p>\n

like a murky past.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Come rain or shine, the image leaves –<\/p>\n

it goes and travels and asks questions<\/p>\n

in my voice. Has my expressions.<\/p>\n

And it loves and hates, it laughs and grieves,<\/p>\n

but without my heart –<\/p>\n

it doesn\u2019t have my heart.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sometimes it comes back to look at me.<\/p>\n

Its eyes are bright and mine are dull.<\/p>\n

It has caused great misery<\/p>\n

and is in rude health, while I am ill.<\/p>\n

Stained hands betray the wrong<\/p>\n

it\u2019s done. \u2018Kill\u00a0 the thing!\u2019<\/p>\n

That\u2019s what my heart is muttering.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But I just say, \u2018Run along!\u2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

2.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The eagle<\/p>\n

huddled on that absurd stump<\/p>\n

within his iron prison<\/p>\n

stares through an immense distance –<\/p>\n

to the clouds of another place<\/p>\n

which he knows better<\/p>\n

than the bars of his cage.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He always perches like that, says the Keeper.<\/p>\n

Perfectly still.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But the monkeys next door<\/p>\n

doing jumps nobody has ever seen –<\/p>\n

they\u2018re one hundred percent at home<\/p>\n

in a world of umbrellas, sticks and bits of orange peel<\/p>\n

swinging happily<\/p>\n

before an indulgent crowd.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

3.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Are you dead on your feet?<\/p>\n

Look at those shining gates<\/p>\n

on the horizon.<\/p>\n

They\u2019ll give you strength.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Turn around!<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t go into the city, the magical city!<\/p>\n

Its roads are covered in dirt, as with all cities,<\/p>\n

but\u00a0 those far-away towers glitter<\/p>\n

in the sunset, like gold.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

4.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Kiss the day<\/p>\n

or kiss tomorrow goodbye.<\/p>\n

That great door shuts with a boom –<\/p>\n

its rusted bolt squealing.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Youngsters look out!<\/p>\n

The pen falls from shaky hands<\/p>\n

and your hair will turn white quickly.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Oh glorious Sun<\/p>\n

let us get wasted<\/p>\n

one more time –<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Giving chase over open country<\/p>\n

while the hounds pant for breath at our side –<\/p>\n

scattering\u00a0 mud, foam, clouds.<\/p>\n

View halloo!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Kiss the day<\/p>\n

or kiss tomorrow goodbye.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sibyl Ruth<\/strong>\u2019s poetry collections are Nothing Personal<\/a><\/em> (Iron Press) and I Could Become That Woman <\/a><\/em>(Five Leaves). \u00a0She\u2019s also translated the poetry written by her German great-aunt Rose Scooler,<\/a> an inmate of the Terezin Ghetto.
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

Peter Kien<\/strong>, (1919-1944) a German-speaking Czech, was a prominent figure among the artists of Terezin. He died in Auschwitz.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Four Poems 1.   Old days squatting at the edge of vision. I work it into an image, fix that in a frame. But it moves off just the same, leaving me to linger on in prison, like a gap in time ringed by frost, like a murky past.   Come rain or shine, the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2599","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2599","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2599"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2599\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2602,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2599\/revisions\/2602"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2599"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2599"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2599"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}