My father was a suitable man
He always had things in his pockets
Chocolate for the satyrs
fat polished coins for the ferryman
...
My day's allotment of people
Papa, Nicki and me
At night we all hang by a thread
Don't worry, one day there'll be childhood
...
You have beheld too many faces
endured too many balls
wig powder and
candlelight, tableaux
...
Or I ask you
to dance in the midst of rain
or I go with you. The splitting stormclouds
in the midst of life, divided
...
But how (and whither)
are birds translatable
notes in a
language, that emerges
...
The moon hangs like an empty building
above the bare branch of a tree
The child's dingling-dangling lantern
an attempt to ape Caspar David
...
Matthias Göritz was born in Hamburg in 1969. Today he lives in Frankfurt/Main as a writer. After his studies of philosophy and literature he spent some time in Moscow, Paris, Chicago, and New York. He published his first collection of poetry Loops in 2001. He received numerous stipends and prizes such as 'Literaturförderpreis der Stadt Hamburg' both in 1994 and 2000 and Mara Cassens Prize in 2006. From 2000 to 2002 he was Writer in Residence at Bard College, New York. In 2002 he attended the International Writing Program (IWP) at the University of Iowa.)
From an Old Suit
My father was a suitable man
He always had things in his pockets
Chocolate for the satyrs
fat polished coins for the ferryman
You certainly couldn't impress him
with a poem
with a glum face
with nice dry socks and the promise
that all would remain as it was
He knew: nothing would remain as it was
everyone would leave him
shutting him up in loneliness
lulling him into somnolent
slumber, slumber
Even the album makes a noise: it explodes
Even the grave is a room
And even his suit, or so he imagined—
one day the worms would read it
with their tongues
Translation: Susan Bernofsky