Unable are the loved to die; for love is immortality.
This poem deals explicitly with the death of a relative. Thus I will put a trigger warning on it.
Disclaimer: Poem copyrighted to Till Lindemann. This post does not
include photos/illustrations of said poem from 'Messer'. The original
German text is also not included. This is only a interpretive
translation and accuracy is not guaranteed.
Grandmother
I lie by you on one leg
Within death's shrine in the bed
Your rest will not come eternally
And I will see you when you die:
But overcome am I with ennui
So I fetter you with a clothesline
Until death I shall love you
Must first push up the fat
Then I place myself on your skin
I am in rhythm; the bed creaks loud
Soon I stuff the face of your lap
With a handful of tight folds
The buttocks and back being rubbed sore
And something falls out of your mouth
Your rest will not come eternally
So I'll sew up your mouth and eyes
The nose too of the dry breathing
Add a clamp too, for the socks
You have nothing to pass on
And you shall now die a little faster
Your heart beats weak;
My heart beats strong;
The life leaps out from your skin -
Ah, so I am your dear honest grandson
And I wish to be, until my own death.
Notes: Italics are lines I'm less sure of than the rest.
Comments: I don't know whether to find this heartwarmingly terrifying or just terrifying. I'll go with the latter.
This translation is one I've taken a few liberties with. The last two lines are technically swapped over because the sentence structure didn't work otherwise in English. But I think this is fairly close as it gets.
"Then I place myself on your skin
ReplyDeleteI am in rhythm; the bed creaks loud"
Although I'm fascinated by Till Lindemann's character, there's no way I cannot be terrified by his insistence on mentioning necrophilia and incest...I wonder how much of this is true and based on his personal experience...*shudders*
I translated this one from the bottom up, so the heartwarming declaration of his love as a grandson was the first thing that caught my eye. And then it just... erm, got worse from there. D:
DeleteThose two lines are not ones that I am particularly sure of, not because it's not literal but because I might have worded it strangely. But they did make me shudder, myself. Why Till is so fascinated by necrophilia is beyond me. At least this one isn't 'Missfall', though. That one was the creepiest ever so far.
If it helps, in real life he did love her, in the regular way. When she was too feeble to walk he brought her to family dinners even if he had to carry her. He sat by her bedside telling her comforting stories as she died. He says he finds his poetry amusing.
ReplyDeleteIm sooo glad that i found this blog, till poetry is amazing im in love with it, of course its creepy but i think thats what it makes it so interesting to read, anyway thank you soo much for translating this ♡♡
ReplyDelete