Bilder des Vaters – Wörter der Tochter A Father’s Images – A Daughter’s Words
My father, now in his 90s, recently recovered from the shock of a fall. Brought to the fore, mortality reshuffles experiences – a mysterious process, different for everyone, young or old. Whether relationships are supportive or troubled by frustrated expectations, in the deep cavern of the psyche experiences assume fresh meaning when endings are contemplated, or happen suddenly. The unconscious speaks a surreal language.
A few years ago, my father took photos of a phenomenon on the island of Fuerteventura, where, in some places, when the tides recede, the white shingle derived from bleached shells and sea creatures mingles with the black sand of volcanic rock. The bizarre sand drawings my father came upon inspired me to write short lines in German, here with English translations. The alliance of images and words surprised us both, hinting at an underlying creative connection between us that could not have been otherwise expressed.
Im Sand träumt das Angesicht der Zeit … The Face of Time Dreams in Sands
1
Ich seh Dich, du siehst mich noch nicht.
Meine Stimme klingt von der Ferne
In deinem Muschelraum
Geheimnisvoll im Werden.
Manche glauben ich sei nur Sand,
Die irren sich gewaltig.
Ich bin ein Traum wie Du.
I see you – you don’t see me yet
My voice sounds from far away
In your snail chamber, secretly becoming
Some think I’m only sand
They’re mistaken
I am a dream – like you
2
Tränen waschen mich rein von der Macht
Das war mir eine Last.
Ich will ich mich nun auflösen
Im Gesang von schönen Symphonien.
Tears cleanse me of power
Which burdened me
Now I will dissolve
In tunes of beautiful symphonies
3
Ich bin ein komischer Vogel – mit Hörnern und Brüsten
Wie Du trag ich das schweigende Anglitz der fliessenden Zeit
I am a strange bird – with horns and breasts
Like you I wear the silent face of fluid time
4
Die blassen Gestalten um mich wollen mich beschützen
Als ob ich zu klein bin fur die Welt – vielleicht ahnen Sie
Dass ich ein Drache werden will der die Welt erschüttert
The pale figures surrounding me mean to protect
As if I was too small for the world – maybe they suspect
That I want to become a dragon to shake the world
5
Mein kleiner Tanz ist ansteckened – bald wird der ganze Strand
Bevölkert sein mit Kindern die Hände fassen in Ringelreihen
My little dance is catching – soon the whole beach
Will fill with children who hold hands in Ring a Ring o’ Roses
6
Vom Wind verwischt und verwandelt bin ich
Das restlose Gemüt einer schlafenden Seele
Blurred by the wind and transformed
I’m the restless mind of a sleeping soul
7
Meine Flügel sind mir ans Hirn gewachsen
Wer weiss who ich dahin mit segeln werde
Mein Herz blickt schon längst ins Unbekannte
My wings have grown to my brain
Who knows whereto I shall sail with them
My heart has long been gazing into the unknown
Images: Ludwig Weiss – Words: HMA Venema
And then there is ‘The Story of the Sands,’ one of my favourite Sufi stories. Here told by Terence Stamp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNasXE5_OTI
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