Wilde Tulpen - Wild tulip lava [Tulipa undulatifolia]

Sieh doch, Kind, die Tulpen haben

Ihre Kelche aufgemacht:

Rote, gelbe und gescheckte:

Tiefe Kelche voller Gluten,

Nichts als Schönheit, nichts als Liebe,

Eine ungeheure Pracht.

Kann denn irgendeiner traurig

Unter diesen Flammen sein?

Sieh: das kam aus schwarzer Erde!

Denke: solche Flammen schlafen

Winters unter unsern Füßen!

Nur die Liebe schläft nie ein.

Aus "Tulpen-Predigt"

von Otto Julius Bierbaum

(1865–1910)

Schmetterlingstraum - Dream of the Butterfly

Gulf Fritillary [Agraulis vanillae] © Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

Der Schmetterlingstraum

Einst träumte mir,
Chuang Tzu,
ich sei ein Schmetterling.
Ein schwebender Schmetterling,
der sich wohl und wunschlos fühlte
und nichts wusste von
Chuang Tzu.

Plötzlich
erwachte ich
und merkte,
dass ich wieder
Chuang Tzu
war.

Nun weiß ich nicht,
bin ich Tschuang Tschou,
dem träumte,
ein Schmetterling zu sein,
oder bin ich ein
Schmetterling,
dem träumt, er sei
Chuang Tzu.

Und doch ist sicherlich zwischen
Chuang Tzu
und dem
Schmetterling
ein Unterschied,
denn gerade diesen nennen wir ja
Wandlung der Substanz zu Einzelwesen.


CHUANG TZU
(4. Jahrhundert v. Christi)

Gulf Fritillary [Agraulis vanillae] © Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

Next is how Herbert A. Giles rendered
the famous "Dream of the Butterfly" from the Zhuangzi into English:

Cloudless Sulphur [Phoebis sennae] © Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

Dream of the Butterfly

Once upon a time,
I, Chuang Tzu,
dreamt I was a butterfly,
fluttering hither and thither,
to all intents and purposes a butterfly.
I was conscious only of following
my fancies as a butterfly,
and was unconscious of my individuality
as a man.

Suddenly,
I awaked,
And there I lay,
myself again.

Now I do not know
whether I was then a man
dreaming I was a butterfly,
or whether I am now a butterfly,
dreaming I am a man.

Between a man
and a butterfly
there is necessarily a barrier.
The transition is called
Metempsychosis.


TSCHUANG TSE
(4th century before Christ)

Long-tailed Skipper [Urbanus proteus] © Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

All butterfly photos are taken on
Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, USA

Abendlied - Evening Song

© Photo by courtesy of Jacob from Ocala DP, Florida

Abendlied
Strophe 1 - 3

Der Mond ist aufgegangen.
Die gold'nen Sternlein prangen
am Himmel hell und klar.
Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget.
Und aus den Wiesen steiget
der weiße Nebel, wunderbar.

Wie ist die Welt so stille,
und in der Dämm'rung Hülle
so traulich und so hold
als eine Stille Kammer,
wo ihr des Tages Jammer
verschlafen und vergessen sollt.

Seht ihr den Mond dort stehen?
Er ist nur halb zu sehen
und ist doch rund und schön.
So sind wohl manche Sachen,
die wir getrost belachen,
weil uns're Augen sie nicht seh'n.

(Musik: Johann Abraham Peter Schulz 1790,
Text: Matthias Claudius 1773)


Evening Song

The moon has risen,
the tiny golden stars shine
in the heavens bright and clear;
the forest stands dark and silent,
and from the meadows climbs
a wondrous white mist.

How still is the world,
and in the veil of twilight,
as comfortable and lovely
as a quiet chamber,
where the misery of the day
you will sleep away and forget.

Do you see the moon standing there?
There is only half of it to see,
and yet it is round, and fair!
So it is with many things
that we mock confidently,
Because our eyes see them not.

Windfall

Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth."


(Saint Jerome (374 AD - 419 AD))





Breakfast at tiffanys


Lyrics by Deep blue somthing


You say that we've got nothing in common
No common ground to start from
And we're falling apart
You'll say the world has come between us
Our lives have come between us
Still I know you just don't care

An I said, "What about Breakfast at Tiffany's"
She said, "I think I remember the film
and as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it."
And I said, "Well, that's one thing we got."

I see you - The only one who knew me
And now your eyes see through me
I guess I was wrong
So what now? It's plain to see we're over
And I hate when things are over
When so much is left undone

An I said, "What about Breakfast at Tiffany's"
She said, "I think I remember the film
and as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it."
And I said, "Well, that's one thing we got."

You say that we've got nothing in common
No common ground to start from
And we're falling apart
You'll say the world has come between us
Our lives have come between us
Still I know you just don't care

An I said, "What about Breakfast at Tiffany's"
She said, "I think I remember the film
and as I recall, I think, we both kinda liked it."
And I said, "Well, that's one thing we got."

A FISHERMAN'S POEM

Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia - Photo Juergen Kuehn - groß/large

A FISHERMAN'S POEM

Ocean’s current provides a
cascade of movement,
as pages turning in lazy swirls
the magnificence of high
tide, salty mist against the wharf

and dory boats eager for
Mackerel, Cod, await men on
their quest at five in the
cold morning. But the sun is alive
a yolk in dawn’s shine
embracing sky and water
sharing their catch of plenty.

Children arise with mom, dads
these families in noisy homes by the
sea, fishing thoughts clear deep
inside the hearts of all
who cling to this bay of bays
aside Atlantic’s ancestral shore.

---

From the ABC set NOVA SCOTIA POEMS
by Richard L. Provencher