”To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June.”

Jean-Paul Sartre

Sartre‘s words are so true – particularly in this case, at least for me. I trawled through my archive and came upon this snippet of a longer poem by the early 20th century poet Joachim Ringelnatz known for his often absurd, often extremely funny but also satirical poems. I found this one on a gravestone, not on a real one, however, but part of an exhibition of modern cemetery arrangements featuring entries from all over Germany as part of the Bundesgartenschau (national horticulture show) in Brandenburg a few years back. I looked up the whole poem and it rushed me with a lot of memories as it used to be of my favourites (appropriately gone, done, yet never completely forgotten).

I found a few adaptations and a few literal translations, none of which I was really happy with. Here is my own attempt at rendering the poem in English:

I love you so!

I would give you
a tile from my stove without hesitation.
I did not hurt you.
Now I feel sad.
The railroad track elevation
Is ablaze with furze.
Gone - done - 
Yet never forgotten.
I set out.
Things which last
Are never loud.
Time defaces the living breed.
A dog barks.
He cannot read.
He cannot write.
We cannot stay tight.
I am laughing.
The holes are the most important 
parts of a sieve.
Ik hebb di leev.

Linked to Travel with Intent. For more posts inspired by the Sartre quote, click here.