Misfortune --To Holderlin

Misfortune  --To Holderlin                       

Tubingen, Translate Haizi’s orginal

    after visiting Holderlin’s house at river Nectar

The Alcohol of the Sick

Please lift up the bed

My Holderlin, you are lying in this bed

Horse, running madly

Across the entire France

Becoming a pure poet, a symbol for the sick poets

My unlucky Horderlin

You are tied as a horse

In the carpenter’s house, to the deathbed

I do not know

Whether your second brother

Can ease your pain

With the remedy of tragedies, in the August evening

When those sisters and elders

Lift up the wool

The unlucky wool is burning

Like the white snow

He says --- no rush

Please wait until my song is over

I will drill into

Your dark and rusty horn

The luscious horn, the sounding horn

The crazy horn and the crown: I am lying down

--‘Ten thousand years is too long’

Only the horn is left, and the dark poems from the blind poets

Yearning for the Past, Or no more gains

When you hold the rusty sickle

In your hand

And cut off the snow and the sheep wool

Holderlin has gone insane

The son of the abbot

The lover of the banker’s wife

Holderlin has gone insane

When you build up the hospital

And set up the beds one after another

Holderlin will lie in the first bed

Live through days with no more gains

Those are the happy days

---“Gaining makes suffering”

I am missing the wild goose ----

The basket of laughers and tears

Follows me

And comes to life

I am missing the wild goose ----

And the bride with red skin dyed from the bloody evening

After the Blood is the Darkness

Holderlin---tell me what darkness is

How it buries you, embraces you

And drowns you

Like a river drowning a big horse

The living one, the screaming one, and the dictator of the darkness

You --- how can you fly over the abyss ---dance melancholy ---and abandon me

Laugh at me ---Holderlin

You have become part of the darkness, gigantic

My homeland

We are still building our homeland and village in the relics 

They will be buried by the darkness sooner or later

Tell me, Holderlin---who do I write these poems for

Hide the poisonous poems and food in the deepest cave

The orchard and the houses ---these relics ---what will they appear

        in the darkness, Holderlin

Will they glow as what we are told

Six years of journey in the gloomy rain

Can the brothers understand? Or, they have already died, without shedding any

sympathy?

Which god will guide you by hand over the road of light and dark shadows

Are you meeting your aging mother at the departure dock

Are they illusions or truths?

Beauty or lie? Misery or ecstasy?

Or they are united: dictatorship

After blood is darkness ---darkness is more terrifying than blood 

I will forever remember you

My unlucky brother Holderlin

To the Goddess of Destiny

Holding the broken lamp left by the old lover

Holding the fragile flowers picked from the high cliff

Jump, all the way down

The red wild goose

Is watching my beautiful village

From the other side of river

Dedicate my poems to the Goddess of the destiny

The misery is hiding in the mountain

It says whichever is whatever

The red wild goose

Trembles

When the wind is blowing to the south

We will eat the sheep

The sheep will be grazed on the green prairie 

The cloud will drift you away

Gone with the wind

---The Goddess of the destiny