Till Lindemann's 'Messer' - 'Viva Andromeda'

The knight in shining armour sings an ode to the stars; for he was neither late nor unsuccessful...

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.



Viva Andromeda (1)

In bare arms stands my army
Of - oh - ten thousand illusions
Adorned with ribbons and flags
I myself am the pilot on a white horse
I'm a pioneer in the dawn
They know not what is beyond the horizon
My fleet awaits the signal
So I should probably give it time
To vilify our adversary

And so I conquer with no difference
These battles never do last long
Yes, all the gods are always on my side
In ranks and from the box seats
The echo of their curiosity rattles
If I take from the enemy during their flight
Their life and all their worldly goods
To present to you in your own style
You will let me become yours

So I come up against the dragon
The glittering eyes
His large head
Now adorns the ring on the silken finger
For a promise that has dwellt forever
Well beneath my shingle
And only his blood was fit to seal it
Once the lips like dragonflies' wings
Because it was determined only for my mouth

I did not swim in his intestines
And then I, like pale linen,
Oh so artfully wrapped around your hips
But because you are like glass
I must protect your every heartbeat
On that alone
I climb the tower of desire to your heaven
Stone by stone, and gently direct you
And our earthly desire up into the cosmos

Oh, Andromeda, I can see you.
You were never as close as you are nowadays
There a miracle befell my eyes
And every pore now celebrates topping out
The white horse will be my fate
Trumpets blare out over every tent
Proclaiming victory over all time
But rank and lodge remain empty
And it does not become dark at night


Viva Andromeda (2)

It stays one more year with me and two days
Writing what has happened to me
Nothing heals the pain of betrayal
The fraud and I lick my wounds
Now pull homewards
The sky turns the brown of rusted armour
The broken lance at their scorn
The only prey
Your dusty smile
And the corona cannot illuminate the way
I am so tired and so is my faith
And all my men are dead
And I have no power
To raise a new army

Notes: Italics are lines that I'm less sure of than the others. This is such a long poem and with compound words that Till made up as well, but despite this I feel that this has been a mostly-faithful translation.

Comment: ... but no one said it was to last. Especially Till.

This is the longest poem by Till in 'Messer' and I was really hesitant about jumping into it because of that. It spans two full pages and no pictures are associated with this one. But despite this I was surprised at how much of it did make sense. I'm reminded of St. George and the dragon in this one, along with other countless fairytales.

'Topping out' ('Richtfest' in the original text) is a ceremony celebrated when the last beam on a building is placed. A completion, in other words. I decided to keep it as what it was instead of replacing the phrase with 'completion' or anything like that though. Otherwise, this translation is quite interpretive - lots of parts needed smoothing out and elaborating, but I think I did okay. I'm proud of this one.