GUNTER EICH ~

Inventory

This is my cap,

this is my coat,

here's my shaving gear

in a linen sack.

A can of rations:

my plate, my cup,

I've scratched my name

in the tin.

Scratched it with this

valuable nail

which I hide

from avid eyes.

In the foodsack is

a pair of wool socks

and something else that I

show to no one,

it all serves as a pillow

for my head at night.

The cardboard here lies

between me and the earth.

The lead in my pencil

I love most of all:

in the daytime it writes down

the verses I make at night.

This is my notebook,

this is my tarpaulin,

this is my towel,

this is my thread.

____________________

Gunter Eich

Valuable Nail

translated from the German by

Stuart Friebert, David Young & David Walker

Field, 1981

MIROSLAV HOLUB ~

Dreams

They sap man’s substance

as moon the dew.

A rope grows erect

from the crown of the head.

A black swan hatches

from a pebble.

And a flock of angels in the sky

is taking an evening class

on the skid pan.

I dream, so I dream.

I dream

that three times three is nine,

that the right-hand

rule applies;

and when the circus leaves

the trampled ground will

once more overgrow with grass.

Yes, grass.

Unequivocal grass.

Just grass.

______________________

Miroslav Holub

Poems Before & After

Bloodaxe Books