Antje Stehn (Germany)

 
Antje Stehn (Germany)
 
Antje Stehn, born in Germany, resides in Italy. She is a poet, visual artist, art curator, member of German PEN. Since 1980 she has been showing her art work in international exhibitions around Europe and the US.Since 2014 she is organizing poetic-artistic performances, “Borders”,Fahrazartart, Milan (2014), “Zebralli” Fabbrica dell’Esperienza,Milan (2015), “Life is the art of encounter” (2016) and “Free-floating dandelions” (2017) State University of Milan, “Origin e rigeneration in New Places”, at the MUDEC Museum in Milan”(2020) .She is part of the international Collective “Poetry is my Passion”. Co-editor of the poetry magazine TamTamBumBum, Los Ablucionistas and Teerandaz. She is member of the direction of the Piccolo Museo della Poesia of Piacenza, Italy. Her poems are translated into ten different languages, published in international anthologies and literary magazines. Since 2020 she is curating the art-poetry project “Rucksack a Global Poetry Patchwork which involves more than 250 international poets.
 
 
***
 
The poet’s daffodil
wandered
across state borders
through the peaks of the Pyrenees up
to the Black Sea.
Freshly picked
they drink water in a
whiskey bottle
huddled together in the long neck
embracing each other
in a reinforcing
hug
 
 
***
 
Die Dichternarzissen
Wanderten
Über Staatsgrenzen
Durch die Gipfel der Pyrenäen bis
Zum Schwarzen Meer.
Frisch gepflückt
Trinken sie ihr Wasser aus einer
Whiskyflasche
Im langen Hals eng aneinander
Geklammert
In bestärkender
Umarmung
 
 
***
 
Chafing from unfinished work
fixed rituals
entanglement of all things.
Trunks divide into branches
branches into twigs
twigs into sprigs
everything pushes towards the light
like a field of endless track switches
must be crossed with sturdy shoes
stepping on blackberry tendrils
as if knowledge flows from this
an imprecise
generic awareness
to belong to something bigger
 
 
***
 
Wundreiben durch Unerledigtes
Festgefügtes Ritual
Verschlungensein der Dinge
Stämme verästeln
Äste verzweigen
Zweige teilen sich zu Trieben
Alles drängt zum Licht
Gleisfeld mit endlosen Weichen
Jakob ist immer quer darüber gegangen
Mit festen Schuhen auf
Brombeerranken tretend
Als ströme Erkenntnis daraus
Ungenau
Allgemein
Mit dem Gefühl
Zu etwas Größerem
Gehören
 
Wunderbar
 
Who would not want to
to wake up
between white bedsheets
inside a birch forest
like a monk
who lives his vow of silence
in a quiet world
whispering to himself:
How wonderful!
 
Who would not want to live
falling weightlessly
through time
like snow
turning on itself
humming:
How wonderful!
 
Who would not want to
galop across the prairie
without a saddle and bridle
shouting:
How wonderful!
 
Who would like to conclude ones days
that are filled up like a rucksack
tasting a slice of cheese cake
murmuring:
How wonderful!
 
 
Wunderbar
 
Chi non vorrebbe
svegliarsi
tra lenzuola bianche
dentro un bosco di betulle
in un mondo quieto
come un monaco
che vive il suo voto del silenzio
bisbigliando fra sé e sé:
Che meraviglia!
 
Chi non vorrebbe abitare il tempo
come la neve
che cade senza peso
girando su sé stessa
canticchiando:
Che meraviglia!
 
Chi non vorrebbe
galoppare attraverso la prateria
senza sella né briglie
gridano:
Che meraviglia!
 
Chi non vorrebbe concludere le sue giornate
colme come uno zaino in viaggio
con il sapore di un cheese cake nella bocca
susurrando:
Che meraviglia!
 
Gennaio 2021
Quel miracle !
 
Qui ne voudrait
se réveiller
dans les draps blancs
d’une forêt de bouleaux
un monde tranquille
comme un moine
vivant son vœu de silence
murmurant en lui-même:
Quel miracle !
 
Qui n’aimerait habiter le temps
comme la neige
qui tombe impondérable
et tournoie
en chantant:
Quel miracle !
 
Qui ne voudrait
traverser la prairie au galop
sans selle ni bride
en criant:
Quel miracle!
 
Qui ne voudrait que ses journées finissent
pleines comme un sac à dos en voyage
avec un goût de cheese-cake dans la bouche
en murmurant:
Quel miracle!
 
Traduction Marilyne Bertoncini
 
 
Wie wunderbar
 
Wer möchte nicht
Auf weißen Laken
in einem Birkenwald erwachen
wie ein Mönch im Schweigegelübde
flüstern:
wie wunderbar
 
Wer möchte die Zeit nicht
wie Schneeflocken erleben
ohne Gewicht fallen
sich um sich selbst drehen
und summen:
wie wunderbar
 
wer möchte nicht
durch die Prarie galoppieren
ohne Sattel und Zaum
und johlen:
wie wunderbar
 
wer möchte nicht
seine Tage beenden
vollgepackt wie ein Rucksack
mit dem Geschmack
von Kasekuchens im Mund
und hauchen:
wie wunderbar

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