Saturday, January 23, 2016

No. 9 Ghost Lights

No. 9 is about a "will-o'-the-wisp" leading the poet astray. Clearly I could not set that awkward word, so I opted for "ghost lights." Translating this one felt like a satisfying game of Tetris.

No. 9 Ghost Lights
Through the deepening mountain chasms
Led by ghostly lights I wind
Leaving from this place of darkness
Weighs not heavy on my mind
Always used to err and follow
All the roads lead to one aim
All our joy and all our sorrow
All a part of ghost lights' game
Down the dry and rocky course
Winding slowly through the cave
Every stream must find its source
Every suffering find its grave

9. Irrlicht
In die tiefsten Felsengründe
Lockte mich ein Irrlicht hin;
Wie ich einen Ausgang finde,
Liegt nicht schwer mir in dem Sinn.
Bin gewohnt das Irregehen,
's führt ja jeder Weg zum Ziel;
Uns're Freuden, uns're Wehen,
Alles eines Irrlichts Spiel !
Durch des Bergstroms trockne Rinnen
Wind' ich ruhig mich hinab,
Jeder Strom wird's Meer gewinnen,
Jedes Leiden auch sein Grab.

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