You can read the introduction here and the first part here
VI
I seek solace and I console, as if
I’d found a distance to keep.
Some have turned away,
Afraid of my silence,
Which is clear as mountain water. It’s
Me who’s supposed to talk. Talk. Some of them
Fish in the murk, in the hope of not
Seeing what is on the hook
Flailing.
VII
Wallowing in the cloud
That does not lift.
Looking for you. For
Hide or hair. Summer
Freckles and body art. Tattoo. Untitled,
Wandering in the cloud
On unilluminated veins,
On nasal ridges and knees,
In orphaned towels.
Grazing on the cloud,
Eating nothing. Crying
With the cloud,
Shunning umbrellas.
VIII
Your picture’s come unfixed,
Almost always spring steel
Tensed in a frame
That you destroyed
After the lines had
Found their forms:
Kidneys, eggs, beans,
Barbapapa. Sausages made
From meat and excrement.
Roses and rosettes.
The unheard-of now owned
By the unwittingly
Silent.
IX
Greed is a gravedigger
Who’s also disguised as
A singer, a starlet and
A bit-part player. Greed
Beds your body in a cheap
Coffin, she even clutches at
Your ashes and in the end
Destroys any and all wishes.
X
In the morning I remember the celestial
Sign of your liver spots. I
Draw it on my skin
Between scars and creases
Venus waits in vain
For evening.
Translated by Geoffrey C. Howes
Photo by Elle Hanley
Author
Sabine Gruber
, born 1963 in Meran (South Tyrol, Italy), grew up in Lana. After teaching German in Venice she became an acclaimed writer. Her work includes novels, poems, and essays. In 2016 her latest novel, Daldossi oder Das Leben des Augenblicks, was published by C.H. Beck and shortlisted for the Austrian Book Prize. Sabine Gruber lives in Vienna.
Photo (c) Peter Eickhoff
