19 05 2020

… and when I’m asked upon the life I saw

and thought, and felt, and cast in line and rhyme

amidst this world – immediate to God:

I did not less, perhaps, I did not more,

but sat and span my yarn, assembling time…

Lost in Translation: Zemfira´s Хочешь (If you wish) Ru > En

25 10 2018

Und schon wieder mal ein Lied von Zemfira. Diesmal handelt es sich um Хочешь? – was ich ins Englische als fragend einladendes „If you wish“ übersetzt habe. „Wenn Du möchstest?“ wäre es wahrscheinlich auf Deutsch.

Хочешь? – ist ein dieser alten Lieder Zemfiras, die recht viel Diskussion hervorriefen und zu ihrem uneindeutigen Ruf beitrugen. Ich meine, ihre Wahnsinn anmutenden Pupillen in dem Video haben wahrscheinlich auch ihres gemacht 🙂

„Wenn Du möchtest, töte ich die Nachbarn, die Dich beim Schlafen stören“ – ich erinnere mich noch an diese leicht zurückhaltende Ablehnung im Gesicht meiner Großmutter: „Aber ist es nicht zu viel, wie kann man so etwas singen, man töte die Nachbarn?“. Was ich interessanter finde, von der klassischen Strukturlogik werden Gedichte in ihrer emotionalen Ladung eher steigernd aufgebaut: vom Milderen zu dem Schwerwiegenderen. In dem Sinne ist es ziemlich spannend, dass der Text das Weggeben der eigenen Lieder/Gedichte implizit in die stärkere, schwerwiegendere Position stellt, als den Mord an störenden Nachbarn. Ah, zemfira weiß es ganz genau, wie tot es sich anfühlt, nicht kreieren zu können…

Zемфира – Хочешь? Zemfira – If you wish
Пожалуйста не умирай
Или мне придется тоже
Ты конечно сразу в рай
А я не думаю что тоже


Хочешь сладких апельсинов
Хочешь в слух рассказ длинный
Хочешь я взорву все звезды
Что мешают спать

Пожалуйста только живи
Ты же видишь я живу тобою
Моей огромной любви
Хватит нам двоим с головою


Хочешь в море с парусами
Хочешь музык новых самых
Хочешь я убью соседей
Что мешают спать

Хочешь солнце вместо лампы
Хочешь за окошком Альпы
Хочешь я отдам все песни
Про тебя отдам все песни


Хочешь солнце вместо лампы
Хочешь за окошком Альпы
Хочешь я отдам все песни
Про тебя отдам все песни

Please, don´t die,

otherwise I would have to – with you.

You´d go straight to heaven, of course,

And me? I don´t think I could, too.


If you wish  sweet oranges?

If you wish – long stories read aloud?

If you wish, I would blow up all the stars

That ruin your sleep.


Please, you just live on,

Can´t you see, I am living in you?

My enormous love

Would be enough for the two of us.


If you wish – sailing at sea?

If you wish – all the newest music,

If you wish, I would kill the neighbours

That ruin your sleep.


If you wish, the sun instead of a lamp,

If you wish – the Alps behind the window,

If you wish, I would give my songs away,

Would give all my songs about you away.


If you wish, the sun instead of a lamp,

If you wish – the Alps behind the window,

If you wish, I would give my songs away,

Would give all my songs about you away.


29 07 2018

Not that I´d never breath´d before,

Not that I´d been a deprived of human warmth,

Not that I had been deaf and heard no music. –

And still this silent tune of yours is finer.


I am all open now.

Come round and have a look.

I feel and sound,

I´m reaching for a thin air,

I´m humbled in my will:

I have no voice to call your name,

I am confused,

I know no more.

I don´t know where I am, –

This wood between the worlds:

No end and no beginning.

Completely out of my shell.

De-oyster-ised and gaping

For your quiet light.


Between the lines

29 03 2018

Lost so deep between the lines,

Far too smart for implications,

For unwise insinuations

Far too earnest, far too fine.


Lines with lead still feel so light,

Following your shapes. No touching.

Modest, decent. Am I blushing? –

When the lines collide…

Last Friday

22 03 2018

Last Friday, just about noon,

When people pack and throw themselves

Out of their Windows and afloat into the rest of

one more weekend:

yet another more.


Last Friday, as I spread my wings and savoured

The early nauseating air of spring,

Spring, pregnant with unbearable beauty of the life to come,

with all the hope and hormones waking up,

while birds don´t trust themselves to sing. Not yet! It is too early!


Last Friday, stretched between the worlds,

between the words,

between my thoughts, so quick and ruthless,

between the common sense – and senses,

between the holy spring and holy Reason,

I desperately lost myself.

Impressions: Unreachable height

15 03 2018



20 11 2017

Waltzing on the weightless ice,

Racing rage of rumbling reason:

Shingles sharp and thought concise,

Hazy thirst that can´t be seasoned.


Fever of the restless mind,

Wild, unchained, it raids ashore,

Whilst this quiet child inside

`s seeking for an exit door.


Singing gospels, see! – she flees:

Joyfully escapes her prison,

Blissful smile across her lips,

Barefoot, numb, yet finally peaceful.


If I were gone…

23 08 2015

If I were gone one chilly morning,

The coroner would find inside

Veins drenched in art, my brain unplugged

And butterflies instead of heart.

Batter me…

19 08 2015

Batter me, better me, bed with me,

Challenge me out of sleep,

Force me into a weep,

Reckless, courageous, deep

Sacredness of a blaspheme.


Fight with me, flout me and fly with me,

Shatter my slumbering heart,

Swinging from heavy to hard.

Let me invent you in art.

Burst me, my muse, to be.

I starved my soul…

17 08 2015

I starved my soul to mental anorexia,

Denying it food for months and months, and months

day by day,

peu à peu,

bit by bit.

Don´t take too much, sweet darling!

Don´t run that far,

be meek and petty,

finish the duty first

before you waste your time on creativity

of thought,

and hand

and feeling…

Don´t drift too far now

that you have found an anchor

to hold and to be held in bed at night.

There, there! No childish tears


take a handkerchief!

Don´t be pathetic! Now,

why can´t you shut your restless eyes


and rest a bit? – forever –

… Oh, soo loong slumber has it been!

How comes I know no mass, poor stupid thing I am?

If I should go for bond and steadiness,

Well then I should be steady, mind no further mental cause

but how to polster best that little holy world of matrimonial oyster-shell of joy.

Why can´t I be as others are?

The soul too restless, and the mind too greedy tear me

from what my sense of social roles demand from me,





multiple inside,

I´m full, but starving,

deaf, but hearing things

With cold numb fingertips I try to touch

here and there and over there

and end up

Being good at nothing.