Monday, August 11, 2008

and then everything receded from him (invisible birds)




and the sound of the wind died away and then like the murmur of a lullaby or pealing bells rose up again from the depths of ravines and tips of fir trees and a faint reddishness climbed into the deep blue and small clouds drifted by on silver wings and all the mountain peaks, sharp and firm, glinted and gleamed far across the countryside, he would feel something tearing at his chest, he would stand there gasping, body bent forward, eyes and mouth opened wide, he was convinced he should draw the storm into himself, contain everything within himself, he stretched out and lay over the earth, he burrowed into the universe, it was a pleasure that gave him pain; or he would remain still and lay his head upon the moss and half-close his eyes and then everything receded from him, the earth beneath him, it became as tiny as a wandering star and dipped into a rushing stream whose clear waters flowed beneath him

georg büchner - lenz - 1839 (posthumously)

3 comments:

fari bradley said...

Fascinating!
Reminds me of:
Goldfinch and Cherry Tree
by Hokusai Katsushika

Woolgathersome said...

*Beautiful* images and words, M... Such a fine passage from Lenz. I went back to it and added a passage I had marked to the most recent Wool... Seemed fitting...

the art of memory said...

thank you both.
have read that book though, nice title.
yes k. it is a perfect book.
i want to be buried with it it think.