3 092 1

Roman Siemens


Free Account, Edmonton

Ruhe for dem Sturm

Noch hat das Gewitter uns nicht erreicht......Aber es kommt unausweichlich.

Commentaire 1

  • Roman Siemens 21/08/2021 5:47

    The wind gathers storm clouds
    above the sea’s gray plain.
    Like black lightning the Stormy Petrel
    flits between sea and cloud.
    Now touching a wave with his wing, now shooting
    like an arrow up into the clouds, he screams,
    and the storm clouds hear joy
    in the bird’s impertinent cry.
    The craving of the storm is in this cry!
    Storm clouds hear the power of anger,
    the flame of passion, and the certitude
    of victory in this cry.
    Seagulls groan before the storm —
    groan and rush above the sea
    ready to conceal at its bottom
    their horror before the storm.
    And the loons groan also —
    pleasure in life’s battle
    is not open to them, to loons:
    the claps of thunder unnerve them.
    The witless penguin timidly hides
    its plump body in crags...
    Only the proud Stormy Petrel Hits boldly
    and freely over the ocean gray with foam!
    Ever more somber and ever lower
    the storm clouds descend above the sea
    and the waves sing and explode
    to the heights to meet the thunder.
    The thunder reverberates. Waves moan
    quarreling with the wind
    in a froth of rage. The wind seizes
    a pack of waves in powerful embrace
    and hurls them with all its might
    on the crags smashing the emerald masses
    into splashes and spray.
    Like black lightning the Stormy Petrel
    ascends, pierces the clouds like an arrow,
    plucks the foam of the waves with his wing.
    Now he bears himself, like a demon —
    proud, a black demon of the tempest —
    he laughs and sobs... He laughs
    above the storm clouds and sobs from joy!
    A keen demon, he long since hears the weariness
    in the storm’s rage, he’s certain
    that the storm clouds will not hide
    the sun — no they will not hide it!
    The wind howls... The thunder reverberates...
    Like blue flame above the bottomless sea
    a flock of clouds blazes. The sea tries to catch
    the arrows of lightning and snuff them out
    in its abyss. Lightning reflections
    writhe in the sea like flaming serpents.
    — The storm! Soon the storm will burst!
    The daring Stormy Petrel proudly flits
    between the lightning above the angry roaring
    of the sea; the prophet of victory screams:
    — Let the storm burst more severely!..

    Maxim Gorkij.
    Übersetzung aus Russischem.
    Habe deutsche ubersetzung leider nicht gefunden.