Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Brecht says good-night

Von Daryl Lim/By Daryl Lim

Memory of Marie A.
Bertolt Brecht

On that day in blue moon* September
Silent under a young plum tree
I held her there, my quiet, pale love
In my arms like a lovely dream.
And above us, in fair summer sky
Was a cloud that caught my eye
It was so white and high above;
When I looked up again, it was there no more.

And since that day, many, many moons
Have floated quietly, down and past.
The plum trees have been cut down
And if you ask me, what has happened to my love
I will say: I do not recall.
Yet, I certainly know what you mean.
But I really don’t remember that face
I know this much: I kissed it long ago

And that kiss, too, would have been forgotten
If not for that wondrous cloud
I know that cloud and shall know it forever:
It was so white and came from high above.
Perhaps the plum trees bloom there still
Perhaps that woman has seven children now
But that cloud bloomed but for a moment;
When I looked up again, it had vanished into the wind.

1 comment: