In summer, the light shapes the truth that comes to our minds as melodies, or, if the times are not musical enough, as words….
There is so little echo, you dare not
To breathe, as the air, if it escapes,
Could end existence.
There, in shadows – the day is almost over,
The chestnut tree is already sinking
That has greeted the hikers year and day.
Here, beneath, razor-sharp asphalt cuts
The new track – field from field
And shrill rejoicing sounds:
This is the aim of all existence.
So we race through year and day
And wipe away all that stands in our way
And we don’t find, we don’t reach our goal
And unless some misfortune strikes us
And stops us in our in-between-ness,
Hey, if we are not forced to keep still,
We don’t even think about it,
We go on willy-nilly to the void,
Into the void …
* * *
I listened to her piano tunes and was enchanted,
I forgot the grieving years and months
For a moment, I was young again and thought:
So they do exist, genuine people!
And notes flooded into me like rays of light
Carrying the day into the deep forest
Through a dense canopy of leaves,
A hint of light beyond the thicket,
Like a promise of heaven in an enchanted wood.
Clear waters are rarely found today,
Unsettled places where mystically
A little of that primal force still resonates
Which was given to all of us,
Right at the beginning.
We have simply forgotten it…
But we can remember again
Through music that touches
The heart tenderly…
* * *
How many prefer to dig for gold in other people’s fields
And how few till and tend their own small gardens
Where golden fruit would grow, if only they had patience.
But it is easier to hunt for riches in the distance
Than to make one’s own little life fruitful.
And that’s why we are eager for quick wins,
The lucky finds and lottery winnings,
The very fortunes of Fortune,
We ridiculously hope for pleasing miracles
And we despise honest work and quiet creation,
For we flee the daily grind of our banal lives,
For we’d rather seek the adventures of the mountains
Than the constant toils of the plains.
Foolishly, all that is essential grows on the plains
And all that is essential for life takes place here
While mountain tops are a windy and hostile affair
And you cannot eat cold gold and money.
* * *
Sure, it’s not entirely useless to climb mountains
And there’s nothing sinful about hiking up Mons Ventoux,
Even on an ordinary Monday.
However, wisdom will not strike you there,
You won’t automatically have visions
And you won’t find God there either,
Unless he also wants to be found.
You never should confuse aesthetics with spirituality.
You must not mistake fun trips for real encounters.
We cannot force the celestial heights of our life
Or buy them like an adventure trip from a brochure,
By hiring an agent, or by just visiting prominent places.
Instead, we can only keep our hearts open, contemplate
And keep spaces clear in our mind, experimental spaces,
So that when celestial spirits take hold of us, we are ready.
But this is first and foremost an inner attitude,
Not a question of geographical position.
* * *
The disdainful powerlessness of private utopias
When it comes to solving real problems
Should not be underestimated, it’s real:
Bourgeois mediocrity garnished with petty moral clubs
To weed out everything that stands in the way
Of personal advantage, cloaked behind worldliness
– None of this helps one bit in eliminating misery.
Because for these people, „being good“ only means
That they and their clique are doing well.
It is to the advantage of this infantile world view
That it denies any higher meaning that would reduce
One’s own and very personal profit.
They then call this „freedom“ and „liberalism“.
The fact that both, if truly meant,
Would include responsibility and fairness,
Which means absolutely more than mere bossiness
And the cover of a supposedly good conscience,
Is de-liberately ignored.
How good that there is a whole wide real world
Outside of these narrow, limited world views.
Even if we have lost every name and concept of it:
The normative power of the factual grounds them
After all. At some point. At last.
* * *
„You must surrender to progress!“,
Said one ant to another,
„You cannot stand in the way of progress,
It is time to take the next step. The time is ripe!
It’s a matter of common sense!“
There was then a turmoil between all the ants
Who wanted to hold on to the tried and tested
And those who wanted to dare to take new steps
In accordance with progress for a better anthill.
For the ants, it was really an important question,
A question of the meaning of existence.
It was a fundamental decision about
How they wanted to shape their society.
This was just before they were all run over
By a huge steamroller. Because the world was changing:
The forest was giving way to a new highway.
The ants really didn’t see it coming.
* * *
It is a gigantic and fatal mistake to imagine
The devil as a power that can be fought by weapons.
Demons dwell within, they rarely invade from without.
By arming oneself, one gives them the tools:
That is how they become stronger.
And last but not least, it were the innermost demons
Of so-called holy warriors that gave reality to evil
In this freely malleable world in the first place.
I do not want to deny that evil exists.
Denying evil is perhaps the nastiest trick of sin.
But to fight it, you have to rob it of its
Inner-worldly power by not giving in to it.
This is a question of heart – not of fists – and
it cannot be done without confidence and charity.
* * *