Family is a magic circle
an alliance, for decades,
roots, that lead through centuries.
Family, those are many waiting plates on an old table:
Not equal, but in a mysterious way:
resembling each other.
Family, that is,
a special rhythm running through a city,
a special way to hold a glass of wine, or
a little child.
Family, that is shared possession
recipes, professions, furniture is wandering from branch to branch,
towels espresso machines pencils books music instruments stories
diseases flu snuffles maligns:
Sometimes shared suffer, sometimes
only told, fortunately.
Family, those are shared adventures we went through together
gaps over which we are constantly
building bridges again.
Family, those are festivities on long tables,
weird after-dinner speeches, shared drunkenness,
nights in beds that smell of childhood,
relaxed tiredness the morning after:
the cup of coffee, shared after a long time,
cake from yesterday on a crumby table.
Family is related with houses you never
lived in yourself, forests and meadows,
calls that reach you from far away,
a river at night.
Family, that is growing up together
death and life, life and death again and again floating into each other.
Sometimes only a rill, some running dry,
sometimes again many rills, reuniting again:
To a mighty
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
and my brother-in-law, for whom I translated this
Comments about this poem (FAMILY by Kathrin KissElder )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967)
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