Armistice Day 2024
To remember the victims of war, I'm reproducing another one of Erich Sonntag's poems. Here's hoping mankind will one day learn from our past.
It is Armistice Day, and while that date is mostly a cultural marker for the Western Allies of the Great War—that is, for Belgians, British, French, and US-Americans, as well as for those service members from esp. Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa—who fought and suffered on the Western Front, it’s perhaps as well as any date to commemorate the dead.
To do so, I’ll be offering another poem by Erich Sonntag, of course written at a later date (likely during the Second World War), I suppose it is as fitting to that purpose as anything else.
As in the previous poem, posted on the occasion of All Souls Day, I am reproducing reproducing Erich Sonntag’s poem “Dem gefallenen Freund”—“To the Fallen Friend” in the German original followed by my translation. Note that while I consider my English (prose) skills quite o.k., I’ve never translated poetry; please let me know if you would like to offer a better translation of the poem. (If you’re looking for a bibliographical reference to the volume of poems where I found it, the reader is referred to my All Souls Day posting.)
I’ve also added an appropriate vintage postcard for illustrative purposes, again, note that I’m using the image as a kind of “prop” to convey a message that resonates with the poem.
Enough from my side.
“Dem gefallenen Freund”, a Poem by Erich Sonntag
Du bist im Licht!
Du bist ein Wissender,
wo wir uns zaudern mühen.
Ein Zerrisener,
trotz meines Herzens Glühen,
finde ich alle guten Pfade nicht.
Schemenhafte böse Schatten,
springen mich die Zweifel an
und krallen sich im matten
ausgedörrten Hirne fest,
verströmt der letzte wehe Rest.
Ich weiß nicht mehr, wo ich begann.
Der Geist verwirrt sich bald,
weil niemand der Verwirrung wehrt.
Beraubt der Kraft und abgezehrt
wird es im Innern dumpf und kalt.
Freund, deine Hände laß mich fühlen!
Verschließe dich dem Freunde nicht,
die heiße Stirn sanft zu kühlen.
Du bist im Licht!
On the vintage postcard from 1919, the caption explains the scene:
Burial in Siberia, 1919. Remember the victims of war.
“To the Fallen Friend”, a Poem by Erich Sonntag
Thou art in the light!
Thou knowest,
While we labourisously struggle.
A torn man,
Despite my heart’s fervour,
I cannot find all good paths.
Scheming evil spirits,
Doubts crawl towards me
And claw their way
Into my numbed brain,
Thus fade the bitter vestiges.
I no longer know where I began.
The mind soon gets lost,
Because none guards against the chaos.
Drained of strength and weary
It grows numb and cold inside.
Friend, let me feel thy hands!
Do not turn away thy friend,
Who gently refreshes the hot forehead.
Thou art in the light!
May the dead rest in peace, that is, until they rise again.
I am seriously touched by the poetry of your grandfather. Thank you for sharing.