In his little boat, the boatman

Ich weiss nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Dass ich so traurig bin.
 
I don't know what it means, that I 
should sit so sad before the trembling 
wine ablaze in our glasses, saying 
nothing. Reminiscing. The drunken 
gold I thought that I had seen spelling 
summer into the folds of the river. –  
No-one to tell it to but you, green fish. 

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh.
 
In his little boat, the boatman 
is seized with the same woe that weeps 
willows and nails cherry blossoms
into the muddy bank. A ruin. A blank. 
The distant trumpet of a regiment. 
None spared the slow sinking. –  
If only, for an instant, she could sing. 
 
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn.
 
I think the waves will devour 
the boatman and the boat, his glass 
shattering like a burst of child-
like laughter, the Rhine hooting its owl-
like wind. And year on year, the dead 
leaves will come to cover the dead. What 
best: a riverbed, a barricade, a nest? 

Ich weiss nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Dass ich so traurig bin.

I don't know what it means, that I 
should sit so sad before the trembling 
wine ablaze in our glasses, other than 
this: if I had drowned, I would have 
spared you this visit. If I had drowned, 
I would have seeped into a deep watery 
gleam, congealed again into a fish. 

This poem refers to the legend of the Lorelei, a young woman who threw herself into the Rhine River and was transformed into a siren. The lines in German are taken from ‘Die Lorelei’, a poem by Heinrich Heine, originally published in 1824. This work also contains references to ‘Rhénanes’, a series of poems by Guillaume Apollinaire (1913).

Lorelei Bacht

3 Questions for Lorelei

What was your process for creating this work?

In his little boat, the boatman - This poem refers to the legend of the Lorelei, a young woman who threw herself into the Rhine River and was transformed into a siren. The lines in German are taken from ‘Die Lorelei’, a poem by Heinrich Heine, originally published in 1824. This work also contains references to ‘Rhénanes’, a series of poems by Guillaume Apollinaire (1913).

Reinvented Psalm 4 (“Still sorry for himself”) - This is a reinvention of Psalm 4, based on an English transliteration of the Hebrew text. The rewriting is based purely on sounds, without any recourse to translation, filtered through the various languages spoken by this writer. Each new psalm is essentially an auditory hallucination, revealing the content of the poet’s psyche, and an attempt at using the techniques and literary codes of religious revelation to build a personally relevant mythology.

What is the significance of the form/genre you chose for this work?

In his little boat, the boatman - As a multilingual person who grew up speaking heavily compartmentalised languages, I have been exploring the possibility of allowing multiple languages to cohabit in a single text. 

Reinvented Psalm 4 (“Still sorry for himself”) - As well as an exploration of psalms and the poetry of revelation, this is a commentary on the loss of languages, as a branch of my family lost Hebrew somewhere along their travels across continents.  

What is the significance of this work to you?

In his little boat, the boatman - It is an exploration of the legend behind my own name, a game of multilingualism, and an homage to Romanticism in German and French poetry. 

Reinvented Psalm 4 (“Still sorry for himself”) - Is a slightly surreal, humorous psychic voyage to the heart of middle age and failing relationships.   

Lorelei Bacht is a multicultural poet and lover of all things bizarre living in Asia. Her work has appeared / is forthcoming in such publications as Visitant, The Wondrous Real, Quail Bell, Abridged Magazine, Odd Magazine, Postscript, Strukturriss, The Inflectionist Review and Slouching Beast Journal. She is also on Instagram: @lorelei.bacht.writer and on Twitter: @bachtlorelei 

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