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Found (Gefunden)

Submitted by VanRyan on Thu, 2021-01-07 11:37

I strode through the woods
So quite on a whim,
Looking for nothing--
Beneath a tree’s limb

I found in half-shade
The prettiest bloom;
Its eyes shone like stars,
Its scent was perfume.

I stooped to pluck it,
But softly it spoke,
“I surely would wilt
If my frail stem broke.”

So, I removed it
Quite gently, with care,
And found just the spot
That would keep it near.

Lovingly planted
In my garden’s mild sun,
It branches and thrives
Till its time here is done.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Last few words: 
I translated this simple poem from the German, a language I had studied among other languages such as Dutch, Latin, Italian.
Editing stage: 
Editing - polished draft
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

chima ononogbu

Thu, 2021-01-07 15:37

chima ononogbu's picture

Lines dipped in perfection. Thanks for sharing.

Bathe yourself with poetry and let the world go to pieces.

VanRyan

Thu, 2021-01-07 17:45

VanRyan's picture

thank you for the nice comment, and I agree with you: it is our poetry that keeps us whole, even if the world falls in pieces, as it seems to from time to time. I can appreciate your words. Stay safe, good friend. Val

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Geezer

Fri, 2021-01-08 08:17

Geezer's picture
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I love this. Even though it is not yours ,[ in the sense that you wrote it,] I see it as being you. I totally agree that to pluck a blossom just for the moment of pleasure, is a waste of it. A couple of years ago, I stopped along side the road and dug up some plants that bloom every year anbd brought them home to plant in my yard. Now, I can enjoy them every year, not just for the moment. Nice job in translation. ~ Geez.
.

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VanRyan

Thu, 2021-01-07 18:29

VanRyan's picture

neither would I bring home cut flowers that lose their beauty and scent all too soon. I would rather present Lynda with something permanent--like a sporty car, lol, which did happen two years ago.
Onward to that simple poem by Goethe, one of Germany's leading poets, right next to Schiller, who wrote the Ode to Joy. I managed to translate that poem nearly word for word. I must thank my father for encouraging me to study languages which, in later life, proved to be helpful to me. And, yes, I also lament the cutting down of mountains of flowers in bloom--destined for the trash heap. Thank you for the great comment, Sir. Stay well. Van (JerryK.)

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