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Deferred time
(English translation of 'Die gestundete Zeit' by Ingeborg Bachmann)
Harder days are coming.
The withdrawal of deferred time
is visible on the horizon.
Soon you will have to lace up your boots
and drive the hounds back to the marshland farms.
For the guts of fish
have chilled in the wind.
The light of lupins burns feebly.
Your gaze gropes through the fog:
the withdrawal of deferred time
is visible on the horizon.
Over there your lover sinks in the sand:
it reaches up to her flowing hair,
it cuts off her words,
it orders her to be silent,
it finds she's mortal
and willing to leave
after every embrace.
Don't look around.
Lace up your boots.
Drive back the hounds.
Toss the fish into the sea.
Snuff out the lupins!
Harder days are coming.
For more translations of poems by Ingeborg Bachmann, go to Translations. |
