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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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1237.
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Du ** (Bilingual)
Du bist die Stille in meinem See,
Deine Augen schauen aus der Tiefe
in Traurigkeit,
Sehnsucht umgibt Dich
wie ein grauer Nebel,
Du weinst,
Deine Traenen sinken,
langsam
zum Meeresgrund
wo sie nach ewiger Ruhe,
nach Erloesung suchen.
Ich bin da,
Du bist meine Liebe,
mein Edelweiss
mit der Seele
des Enzians.
Langsam,
mit der Bedacht
eines Dichters
und dem Zaudern
eines Denkers,
gleite ich in die Wogen,
teile mit starken Armen
die lauen Fluten,
komme zu Dir.
Um Dich zu troesten,
zu kuessen
und fuer immer
bei Dir zu sein.
Wir sind nur frei
wenn wir eins sind.
***********************************
You are the stillness
in my tranquil waters,
your eyes look
from the depth
in sadness as longing
clings to your skin,
a light gray mist.
You cry,
your tears descend
in painful motion
to the bottom
of our sea
there searching for
the solitude
of sweet deliverance.
I see you,
I am here.
You are my love,
my Edelweiss,
my Alpine gentian leaf.
I take much time,
the poet feels
and then
the thinker hesitates,
but then
I glide
into the waves
and part
the waters
using arms that need
to hold you soon,
I come to you.
To touch
and be so close,
to kiss your eyes
and then
to be
forever
at your side.
We can be free
if we are one,
just you and I.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1238.
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Du Bist Magie - You Are Magic
Du bist ein Zauberkuenstler,
ich ein Lehrling nur,
dein Wesen spricht
von Traeumen und Magie,
wenn wir uns sehen
schlaegt die alte Uhr
doch langsamer vergeht
die liebe Zeit doch nicht.
Du weisst dass ich dich liebe
es steht lange fest,
beruehrst du mich
ist es um mich gescheh'n.
Du nennst mich vieles,
auch mitunter Best
und deine Seele
kann die meine leicht versteh'n.
Ein Herz und eine Seele schlagen nun
bei Dir und mir, die Zwillinge hast du,
zusammen singen wir aus einer Kehle
und fragen lange: Was ist da zu tun.
****************************************************
You, magicmaker, yes, I point to YOU,
must know that I am only a trainee,
your being speaks of magic and of dreams
when we converse,
the bell that tolls is just,
it will not err,
time, as two lovers hope
may never change its beat,
YOU know that it is LOVE
all that I feel for you,
'tis long been known.
Each touch is felt
so deep inside
and weakens steady knees.
You call me names,
like Hey, and Best, and such,
your soul can understand
the gist of life itself.
A single heart, one soul
beat in my chest
to echo yours,
you, sweetie, have the twins,
together we shall sing
until we cease to ask
for guidance what to do.
Herbert Nehrlich
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1239.
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Du Laesst Dich geh'n
I know my bosom is no longer young,
the swell is gone or somewhat less attractive
there was a time that you would stare with your hot tongue
at every part of me and ask me to be active.
Yes I have shrivelled up a bit and wrinkles have now squatted
on my 'sweet face' that you would never tire of
we had our dates, subject to all the time that was alotted
by my strict Dad who screamed at us with his pipe-smoking cough.
But just this morning, when the rays of our sun
stole in the bedroom and the sheets exposed your elfin skin
I started crying when I thought how your left bun
had always been my favourite, yes, I grin
I knew right then that it would matter not at all
the outward signs of aging or the wrinkles
so let's get up my sweet and have a real ball
I will be sitting here to listen for your tinkles.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: sun poems, time poems
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1240.
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Ducks
To write a poem
without preparation,
without really thinking
about it.
It is sheer madness,
or, perhaps,
it is
what underpins all poems
in this world.
I don't know.
And it doesn't really matter.
And no one will have to listen
to me.
Or to even pay attention.
What is a fellow
supposed to do
if the whole world
thinks differently,
and if the whole world
disapproves,
and if the whole world
distances itself.
Is a fellow allowed to dream
and to believe in his
own dreams?
What if he wants to
smash up
the universe
to be able
to be with her?
What if he needs to
change the order of things?
Will he really,
truly, honestly,
have to wait for
the next course?
Do sad eyes count enough?
Yes, I am not
in any dumps.
On the contrary.
Just had a question or two.
A hungry duck
will fly.
Unless he does
clip his own wings.
No duck will do that for
any reason other than
fulminating,
burning,
God-given
LOVE.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: poem poems, believe poems, world poems, change poems, sad poems, dream poems, god poems
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