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The Collected Poems of Bertolt Brecht

Page 12

by Tom Kuhn


  3

  Later in the years of loneliness

  Still there will be white clouds to see

  And the waters will make a roaring over stones

  And the wind will shiver in dead greenery.

  There at the beginning . . .

  There at the beginning, the first day

  When that entwining couple entered here

  The threshold knew they would not get away

  It took the footfall that would be their last.

  Behind the lattice the green tree sank to sere

  And yellow discreetly, very fast

  And climbing trembling to bed they were

  With a smile by the wind they loved dismissed.

  Ballad of the Captain of Köpenik

  That was Captain Köpenik

  A brave soldier was he.

  Him too, however, the Republic

  Forgot ungratefully.

  So Captain Köpenik fell prey

  To bitter dejection

  Till God the Sharp Eyes looked his way

  And took him up to heaven.

  There, waving palms of martyrdom

  The saints stood and with what

  Delight they’d have doffed their hats to him

  But not one had a hat.

  So Captain K. stands on the spot

  And all day long alone

  Remembering his happy lot

  Below in God’s sunshine.

  He stands and dreams of marching feet

  Alone and miserable

  Until his miseries excite

  Compassion in an angel

  Who now each Sunday afternoon

  As long as the Captain will

  Like one struck dead or turned to stone

  Stands before his Captain, still.

  There’s rejoicing in heaven these days

  And the reason why is this:

  Captain Köpenik enjoys

  The purest kind of bliss.

  The lovely blue of his beloved skies . . .

  The lovely blue of his beloved skies

  Was such a dear thing to him that each day

  Gladdened him anew going his ways

  In the common people’s company.

  The evening’s brown hills, the stars’

  Bright shining sufficed him. He ate the bread

  He loved, drank the beloved water, from a stranger’s

  Platter and jug and was contented.

  Of many villages he saw only the one

  In the four winds and in every season.

  Its soft grass, its hard stones

  Were for his brief time his companions.

  Later he came almost to forget the skies

  The village and the ploughed fields around.

  He had them as he had his hands: always.

  Grass too knows little of the earth which is its ground.

  Oh my youthful days . . .

  Oh my youthful days! Already

  The fading of their memory has begun.

  Light shadows! White-washed rooms and red

  Within them stood the orchestrion.

  In the apple-shining ponds we circulated

  In the windy waters like voracious carp

  And went at evening in raspberry-coloured

  Shirts and bowler hats, playing the harp.

  Oh squawking, rasping, croaking of guitars!

  Oh heavenly utterances from bloated throats!

  The stiff-with-love and muck-encrusted trousers

  Such din of couplings in the green and slimy nights!

  Among the willows lying in sleepy lairs!

  Under the apple-green heavens, oh the smokes!

  Soaring like doves away on spirituous liquors—

  Ending like stuff the rag-and-bone man takes.

  You, tender mutton in your stiff linen

  Already the Good Shepherd is mad to track you down.

  Yes, you will graze awhile yet and within

  Sits a red heart that will go rotten soon.

  Balaam Lai in July

  In July after the decline and fall of the Marquise

  And his expulsion from paradise

  Standing in the dead bulrushes

  At a pond with flies

  Buzz buzz

  Balaam Lai, supersaturated drunk that he was

  Balaam Lai got smitten by the sun

  God help us!

  Balaam Lai, spirituous spirit of The White Carnation

  Spat offhandedly into the pond of flies

  Splash

  Chewed things over and composed an invitation

  To Anna Clouds

  To join him that night in a solemn lamentation

  And went and purchased another pair of duck eggs.

  God have mercy on Anna Clouds!

  But when the evening palely and in great pain began to darken

  Balaam Lai had doubts

  When Anna Clouds in the twilight came

  Sailing along with her parasol, white as cream.

  For Anna Clouds when it came to it was quite without

  Any false delicacy in her free views

  On love, God knows, she was the last person

  To be fobbed off with lousy conjuring tricks

  And not judge a man on his performance as though

  He fed on the wafers of the Lord and raw eggs

  And Balaam Lai knew this.

  In brief, she observed that windows are made of glass

  And when he didn’t draw the curtains she did

  And at eight o’clock was lounging on Balaam Lai’s lily-pad

  (Whilst he like grim death read the Evening News).

  Now when Anna Clouds began chewing her pink toes for boredom

  Balaam Lai gave rapid thought as to how

  This unchaste creature could be evicted from his wigwam

  But saw no way and the best he could do

  He thought, was trot off and buy red wine and quickly get

  Her very drunk on it.

  And she might pass out

  While he sat over a noble and corpulent tome oppressed

  By the decline and fall of the West.

  But she, full of wine and wriggling around on his cushions,

  Stared him stiff to share

  What had occurred to her.

  Well then, she slugged the bottles and was the cold-soberest

  Most frivolous person on earth when with all the winningness

  Of a valkyrie desperate for corpses

  She invited him to join her in a little tenderness.

  The shipwrecked sailor’s report

  When the ship began to break up

  I went in the water. Its violence

  Flung me onto a bare lump of rock.

  I became unconscious at once.

  It was then my world sank. Admittedly

  When I woke up

  My hair was dry already.

  I ate some things out of shells

  And slept in a tree

  Three days, they were the best time

  And because all I had was room

  I walked a good deal.

  What I saw was new to me.

  I touched nothing. Then

  After three nights

  I recognized the moon again.

  I hung a sheet in a tree

  And stood by it

  Once for a day and a night.

  The water was quiet

  Not a breath of wind in my sheet.

  No ships came and there were

  No birds either.

  Later I did see ships

  Five times I saw a sail

  Three times smoke.

  Song of lost innocence folding the linen

  1

  The thing my mother told me

  It can’t be true, I’m sure.

  She said, Once you are soiled

  You’ll never again be pure.

  That isn’t true of the linen

  And it isn’t true of me.

  Let the river run
over the linen

  Quick it’s clean as can be.

  2

  At eleven I was as sinful

  As the cheapest girl-for-cash

  And really not till fourteen

  Did I mortify the flesh.

  A shade grey was the linen

  I dunked it, the river ran.

  Now it lies there fit for a virgin

  As though never breathed upon.

  3

  I was fallen already

  Before I went with a man.

  I stank to heaven, a scarlet

  Whore of Babylon.

  The linen in the river swishes

  Gently to and fro

  And feels in the rippling kisses:

  How softly I whiten now.

  4

  For when my first embraced me

  And I held him embraced

  I felt from my breasts and belly

  The wickedness released.

  That’s the way with linen

  And that was the way with me.

  The waters run, they hasten

  Where the dirt cries, Set me free!

  5

  But when the others came

  A doleful year began.

  They gave me a bad name.

  I was a bad woman.

  Saving up and fasting

  Was never a woman’s cure.

  Linen left long in the basket

  Goes grey even there.

  6

  And then another followed

  In another year.

  I saw that myself and all things

  Were other than before.

  Dip it in the river, rinse it!

  Sun, wind and dolly blue!

  Use it and dispense it:

  It will be good as new.

  7

  I know: much still may happen

  Till nothing happens anymore.

  But if you never wore it

  What was the linen for?

  And when the linen’s ragged

  And the dirt won’t wash away

  The river takes the tatters.

  All comes to this one day.

  Ballad of the death of Anna Cloudface

  1

  Seven years passed. With kirsch and juniper

  He swilled her countenance out of his head

  And the hole in the air grew blacker and empty

  Of all but the Flood of schnapps was that head.

  2

  With kirsch and tobacco, barrel-organs and orgies:

  How was her face when she melted from here?

  How was her face? It blurred in the clouds?

  Ha, face! What he saw was this white paper.

  3

  Wherever he voyaged, along how many coastlines

  (Not voyaging merely as you and I might)

  Whitely to him a voice cried on the waters

  A voice whose lips were vanishing white . . .

  4

  Once more he did see her face: in the cloud!

  Already very pale. For he stayed too long . . .

  Once more he did hear her voice in the wind

  Far away in the wind that drove the cloud on . . .

  5

  But in later years what was left him was only

  Clouds and the wind and they also began

  To fall silent like her, they also began

  Passing as she had into oblivion.

  6

  Oh when he, soaked through by the salt-sea-waters

  And his wild hands torn to shreds by the gales

  As he drifts down, the last thing he hears is

  A seagull shrieking over the sails.

  7

  Of the green bitter doses, the winds, the skies

  The heavens in flight and the radiant snows

  Of kirsch, tobacco, barrel-organs was nothing

  But shrieks in the air and salt when he swallows.

  8

  But still towards those sickening hills

  In the white winds of April in riot

  Like clouds the wishes fly paler and paler:

  A face fades to nothing. A mouth falls quiet.

  Tahiti

  1

  The schnapps is all pissed up the porcelain

  The rose-coloured blinds are down

  The smokes are all smoked, life won’t come again

  We set sail, Tahiti-bound.

  2

  We sailed away on a horse-hair settee

  Stormy the night and high was the sea

  The ship, she rolled, the night came down thick

  And six of us three were seasick.

  3

  Tobacco, schnapps, paper and irrigator

  Topp saw to the bed-sheet sail

  With: Gedde, strip off! It’s hot, the Equator!

  And: Bidi, hold on to your hat in the gulf-stream gale!

  4

  Round the Cape of Good Horn through the smelling-salts foam

  What a battle with pirates and the ice-green moon!

  Off Java what a typhoon! And cannibals three

  Sang at the far horizon, Nearer, my God, to Thee.

  5

  Back of Java then more schnapps must be swilled

  For Bidi shot Topp, no choice, mutiny

  Two days later a seagull gave Gedde a child

  And into the northern trade-winds they sailed, those three.

  Silk brightly glowing round it like an orange . . .

  1

  Silk brightly glowing round it like an orange

  Thin slit exposing an incarnadine

  That shimmering red as though from bathing shines

  You feel it like a melange on your tongue

  2

  And as the fruit is bound in by the peel

  So, for a peel, this flesh had on this shawl

  And as the peel comes open if you feel

  And from the peel the fruit will lightly fall

  3

  So the shawl fell and that incarnadine

  Wholly exposed now fills those hands of his

  And shimmering red as though from bathing shines

  And veiled now solely by a crucifix

  Hangs on the flesh as down a black stitch-line.

  Mary

  The night her first was born

  Was cold. But in later years

  She wholly forgot

  The frost in the miserable rafters, the smoking hearth

  And the retching of the afterbirth towards morning.

  But most she forgot the bitter shame

  The poor feel

  At having no privacy.

  And chiefly for that reason

  In later years it became a festival

  All the world was at.

  The shepherds’ coarse nattering

  Ceased. Later

  In the stories they turned into kings.

  The wind, that was very cold,

  Became a choir of angels. Yes

  All that remained of the hole in the roof letting in the frost

  Was the star, looking through.

  All this

  Came from the face of her son

  Who was easy

  Loved singing

  Said to the poor

  Come unto me and

  Was accustomed to moving among kings

  And to seeing a star above him in the night-time.

  Ballad

  And when she lay on her deathbed

  She said to him: I have been

  Faithful to you nearly fourteen years

  And now what does it mean?

  He spoke to her and held her hand

  That was whiter than the sheets of the bed.

  My dear wife, for these fourteen years

  I thank you, he said.

  The dress I always wore, she said

  The colour of it was grey

  And what I ate was soup and fish

  I’m almost sorry to say.

  He held her hand the way someone holds

  A weak rop
e in the sea

  Already drowning and said: You were

  A good wife to me.

  And she said to him, How quickly it goes!

  How white my hand is, look!

  And she saw the words “Like a broken reed”

  On a page in an old schoolbook.

  But he stood by her and said to her

  (And didn’t immediately know

  Whether what he said was right) and he said:

  Perhaps it’s all one now.

  Calendar poem

  It’s true my skin’s been eaten by the snow

  My face is tanned red by the sun

  Many have said they do not know me now

  But fighting winter would change any man

  He might sit quiet among the stones until

  His bowed neck sprouts dry rot

  The stars that shine upon him coolly still

  Have no idea is he thin or fat

  Indeed the stars know very little, they haven’t seen

  Him yet and he’s already old

  And the light is getting blacker, lard or lean

  He sits and shivers in the sun, he’s cold

  And long ago alas and dearie me

  He stopped cutting the nails of his black toes

  He lets them grow and when they’ve grown you’ll see

  Him shed his boots and take a larger size

  For a while he sat there in the sun

 

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