zondag 24 mei 2009

Unknown Ludwig (transl. Annmarie Sauer)

When I loose the way to Beethoven

there is always a piano player who waits

for his audience, somewhere in a rat hole

where a newly tuned Steinway stands


It is like cold capping the Andes

such an evening of overcrowded doubts

in the Hammerklavier sonate. Cold silence

towards the stranger next to me. His thoughts

too far from mine. What is he up to

up there, under the trees of my dreams?

Notes like lightning scan

where I’ll never get to:

the fast procreation of rain

a blessing for that jungle

of neurons.