PoetryIndia.com

Some Questions Regarding Poems

Michael Augustin

(for Pearse Hutchinson & Martin Mooij)

Can poets change the world?

--Gottfried Benn

Is poetry

a continent

or is it more like an ocean?

Are there more written

or more unwritten poems?

How much does it cost

to produce

a poem?

Which poem

says more about its author:

his first one or his last?

How many poems per month

does an average

family of four need

to make ends meet?

Should a poem contain

everything

that is found in the newspaper

or everything

that is not found in the newspaper?

Which words

have never ever

appeared

in a poem?

If one places

a book of poems

on the scales

and it shows 300 grams,

does that indicate

the weight of the paper

or that of the poems?

What is

the opposite

of a poem?

Do poems tend

to be loud

or to be quiet?

How many old poems

fit in a new one?

And how many new poems

fit in an old one?

What is the difference

between a poem with a title

and a poem without a title

discounting the fact

that one has a title

and the other has none?

Where does one find

the “best before date”

on a poem?

Is it possible

to extend the durability

of a poem

before its time runs out?

Can poems

bring the dead back to life?

Does a poem

have more or fewer lives

than a cat,

and how many lives

does a poem about cats have?

Can one get oneself

vaccinated

against poems?

What in the world

will poems lead us to?

What possibilities are there

to completely forget

a poem

that one had to learn by heart?

How can poems

defend themselves

against being caged

into anthologies?

What requirements

does a poem have to meet

in order to become

a favourite poem?

Can poems about flowers

multiply

by self-pollination

or do they always need

a poem about bees?

Does a love poem

have to be good in bed?

Which love poems

are better:

the pre-coital ones

or the post-coital ones?

Are love poems

bound to one person

or are they transferable?

When, at the very latest,

must a short poem stop

if it doesn’t want to risk

being mistaken

for a long poem?

Can poems

be produced artificially?

How many poems

can one read, at most,

if one still has to drive?

How can poems

be prevented?

Can a poem sense it

if it’s brushed

by the mantle

of literary history?

Should poems

be provided

with the foot-note

“please delete what does not apply”?

May poems

refuse to give evidence?

Should one throw poems

to the drowning?

What do memorable poems

remember?

Do political poems

represent

the interests

of apolitical poems?

How good must a poem be

in order to be forbidden?

Do poems evaporate

if one leaves the book

lying open for too long?

Is earth

the only planet

where poems

are to be found?

Should poems

be deployed

in areas of crisis?

Has the supply

of poems

for the population

been secured?

In case of emergency

are there any reserves of poems

and for how long

would they last?

How long

can a human being

survive

without poems?

Translated by Sujata Bhatt from German

I Feel Sorry

Michael Augustin

I feel sorry
for the man in the red jacket
who has been longing for a blue jacket
for the past twenty years
but each time he buys himself a new red one instead.

I feel sorry
for the winter
that will never live to see the summer.

I feel sorry
for the little children
in whom adulthood
is already lurking.

I feel sorry
for the words in vain
because they will always remain in vain.

I feel sorry
for the radio signal
filling gaps between programs
which is only put on the air
so everyone hears
there’s nothing to be heard.

I feel sorry
for the question
whose answer everybody – and I mean everybody
claims to know.

I feel sorry
for the dungeon
that has to hold out
down there for centuries
without even having been convicted.

I feel sorry
for the barber’s apprentice
who of all things
has to accidentally
cut the throat
of his boss’ best customer.

I feel sorry
for the preacher
who just can’t remember
the word AMEN
and so is doomed to continue talking
until judgement day.

I feel sorry
for the pursuer of happiness
who without knowing it
has already for some time found happiness
and doesn’t have the slightest clue
that it has even started to run out.

I feel sorry
for the echo
that for once
would love to have the first word.

I feel sorry
for the punch line
that always hangs on the end.

I feel sorry
for the second mitten
of the one armed man.

I feel sorry
for the hamster
in the wheel

for the goldfish
in the bowl

and for the man
in the barrel -

I feel sorry
for the pig in the cold cut.

I feel sorry
for the serious situation
which everybody mistakes
for a game.

I feel sorry
for the fashion
which happens to be nothing
but a passing fashion.

I feel sorry
for the future
that with every passing second
shrinks
only to add to the size of the past.

I feel sorry
for Berlin.

I feel sorry
for the bathroom mirror
that clearly shows its horror
when I look into it
in the morning.

I feel sorry
for the limits
that will always
have to remain within limits.

I feel sorry
for the pea
on which the princess tosses and turns.

I feel sorry
for the legs
that go all the way up
but then can’t go a step further.

I feel sorry
for the first one
who goes over board
and for the last one
who misses the boat.

I feel sorry
for the woman who runs the gallery -
for whom every single vernissage
turns into a finissage right away.

I feel sorry
for the window
through which everyone looks in
but no one looks out of.

I feel sorry
for the dead writers
because they always
have to fill in
for the living ones.

I feel sorry
for the stare
that goes into emptiness

and for the free kick
that misses the goal.

I feel sorry
for the ascetic
whose pillows
are filled with lead.

I feel sorry
for the parallel lines
because there’s no way
to prevent their collision in infinity.

I feel sorry
for Tom Sawyer
who never had the joy
of having children
with his blood brother Huckleberry Finn.

I feel sorry
for this poem.

Translated by Sujata Bhatt from German

About Poems

Michael Augustin

Poems

are not written,

poems

happen.

Poems

were there

before there were poets.

Poems

are scratched

window panes.

Poems

are decomposable

and therefore must not

under any circumstance

be burnt.

Poems

are open around the clock

(even the hermetic ones).

Poems

from foreign countries

do not require

a visa.

A good translator will do.

No one

should be forced

to read a poem

or even to write one.

Poems

cannot be held responsible

for their author.

Poems

don’t read poems.

Poems

can be exchanged

for other poems

at any time.

***

Translated by Sujata Bhatt from German

About Readers

Michael Augustin

‘Writers are always on duty’ – Borges

Readers need to have everything in writing.

Readers have a screw loose

in their bookshelf.

Readers read only

what is written out for them.

Readers always see the world

in black and white.

Readers overlook

precisely what they should look at

when reading.

Readers are only after one thing.

Readers let themselves

be lured away

by authors who are total strangers.

Readers happily agree

to be chained to the page,

they follow the order of words

and they are Peeping Toms.

Readers pay

to be insulted by writers.

Readers would like to,

but they can’t.

When readers are drunk

they read everything double.

When they are sober

they read only half.

Readers couldn’t care less

what they read:

a poem by Gottfried Benn

or the small print

on the tube of toothpaste.

Readers should read

each others’ minds,

they should read

between the washing lines

or they should read

their tealeaves

but they shouldn’t read books!

Readers actually do believe

that every single word

was written just for them.

Readers don’t realize

that there’s a difference

between the words

‘machine gun’

and ‘chewing gum’.

If readers could read

they would read

something else

Translated by Sujata Bhatt from German

Poems

World Poetry

Some Questions Regarding Poems

I Feel Sorry

About Poems

About Readers

Some Questions Regarding Poems

I Feel Sorry

About Poems

About Readers