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Best Poems From
ERHARD HANS JOSEF LANG
(January 8,1957)
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9.
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Fantasies Of The Soul In Pictures - 27 Variations Of Female Pairs Of Soles
walking with a lush turf carpet under joyous flappers
to feel what exactly you're stepping up to next thing
The Honourable Feet of Indian Tribal people
playing their game straight from the soul
every day a new exploration to a young sole!
hey, I'm a real soulmate, yes, me is!
if it comes to the fruits of nature, I simply go for food that is also soul food
decently soleful approach - worthy of a monumental grandeur full of soul
standing up aloof with my feet rooted deeply in their very soul
one soul & two pairs of one sole on one soil
gracefully swaggering herself into viewers' heart & soul
let your soles relish the blessings of rain while going down life's lane all along the soul's feel for nature's showerings
Daughter as strong-souled as Nene - from the roots to the hat
hey, what's that cribbling in our soles telling, hinting at something that's there behind?
my hot soul getting onto a fast sole to buy some coolant to all this spice
no way of having this end up a boring match - with this my friend who is of an equal soul - all the way up to the soles
Am I not barely beautiful from head to toe in between all this glossy blue wrapping of mine?
...and my homestead makes my soles tickle, true, in a very special way
so funny, if not for the toes to laugh along with, we might explode..
how could our landscaping not be beautiful, with our very own so soleful approach
the lady in the field - the most beautiful sole - all around up to her friendly soul
Hey, who was that then - saying we were children of poverty - themselves the poorest of beings with no smiles on lips nor toes?
Hey, why let your soles fly like that - don't you also sense a tickle of close-by?
None of those hapless squires will thus ever believe it's me whom they'll see when in the beloved company of my chosen lord of soul, that I'm as gorgeous as are my beautiful feet while actually, by my soles, they do bespeak the royal taste in him
through the subtle vibes of the elements, a well-soled dancer gets into perfect unison with what her dance is to express; rubber-soled drummer-partner! - your pace might not stay in keeping with my swift soul's tact!
most soulful expressions of human motions and moods - fenced by proper toe twists for a full measure of soul
..this is my home, and it feels so good, even how small is my sole!
* * * *
Each and every stanza above is also one sub-title of mine of as many images of soulfully portrayed females, dancing, standing, in repose, or on the move, on their bare feet. The images are, for most of them, scenes pictured by French photographer Ravince on the island of Madagascar, some are from India, one from Bangladesh, whereas the two portraits of classical dancing feet are of a Cambodian artist.
The pictures to the stanzas may be viewed on my imagery site at
http: //www.flickr.com/photos/libidopter
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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10.
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Festival Of Lights Of Good Fortunes - In Praise Of Goddess Lakshmi
Light up all your lights, dear friends, and
Keep the backdoors of your houses well-shut this day,
For it is Diwali - the Indian festival of lights.
Yet recalling old strains of bad luck,
Lady Good Luck's elder sister, Alakshmi of Indian imagery,
Seen roaming our spheres often in a
Twin face of Lakshmi of good fate,
Shall not be given any chances of sneaking
Into our houses through the backdoor,
At a time when Goddess Lakshmi and her
Higher envoys to attend on
Our blazing ambitions and high-lighted resolves,
With all Her good fortunes in trail,
Is being invited to share with us for a day in a year
The full shine of Her good times.
This is why we have set our
Lights flaring throughout this day and night, hoping to
Inveigle the Fortunate Goddess to enter and abide in our home, too.
But, mind you, dear friends!
Lady Good Luck might come and take just
A fast look around in our house,
Just to see for Herself what really there is behind
That outward display of glory of ours in Her name,
And vanish as swiftly as she came, through the backdoor,
When unheeded and left open.
On the turn of heels in flight,
Of which we may perceive but the fading tinkling of anklets
She might just come and go, so as not to be forsaking us
Once that we raised a big show of Her worship,
With the divinely lit house's backdoor not properly locked up.
Unless, indeed, we took good care of
Our house of life kept tidy,
Without all its side-way entries and its outlets,
Including the ones in the house we made of our mind,
Neatly shut up on this special divine occasion,
Neither our human Lakshmi-like invited neighbour will find time
To come and sit down and stay for longer in our house
For sharing a cup of tea and one's sweeties
Nor will the great Goddess, called on in all her Fullness
From all sides.
Lakshmi is a bit of a choosy Goddesss, as
All of us easily are to understand, her good lucks not
Befalling each and everyone regardless of
Any distinctions, and after Her great pattern
Also the ladies of lucky matches in our visible worlds are of
The rarest in our neighbourhood to be met with.
- Realizing the whole of life itself as
One grand system of symbolism of a kind -
Closed backdoors symbolically stand for: forgiving! ,
Disallowing wonted cumbersome inroads from past sorrows & frustrations.
When we want this good luck of divine Lakshmi's,
If perchance we were to befriend her on a Festival Day of Lights,
To stay with us for longer or for good, with
Her ever lush graces showering onto us this time of the season, and
Not only to pose as a mere facade on our life's house
Fading fast away in bland eyes,
Verily shouldn't we want Lakshmi to come and enjoy our gift of lights
As a guest who, pleased overly and royal only,
Will lovingly stay with us a regular in our house and
Make friendship with us a long-standing affair of steady nature?
... Once that, in the very first place, we've already
That much of good luck that
On our chosen celebrated Day of Lights
We've come to be dealing with a Great Goddess
One who can go all places and be with all sorts of people
All at the same time...
We are calling up, not the country's president,
Who most probably wouldn't either - just couldn't - come to our house,
Lest you're that big fish that I am not,
Or befriended since childhood,
A free, omnipresent and all-knowing Goddess it is, and
One with a mind of bountiful, generous Lakshmi it is that
We are calling up on this Day of Lights, one
Who never has ever forsaken anyone
With a sincere heartful of golden ambitions,
That had invited the Goddess of Good Fortune's inspiring Self
Over to take a seat in one's own house.
Never anyone's given by Her unfair treats,
Once She has come to be one's guest in the house,
Unlike as among us strictly humans,
As long as only people never trumpeted out
Divine plans of the Fortunes offered in Her hands
Before the sketches are written,
- With the house's backdoors always well shut on Her arrival.
Unexpectedly favourable circumstances,
Eventually evolving stately events to be handed out by
A fate turning its benevolent face toward us,
Will be seen naturally, in the wake of
Another Festival of Lights remembered
Happily for one long year ahead,
With good turns to come to pass in our lives,
That in due time will be sharing their lights of glory
With all these bright fest lights of
Oil-lamps and scented candles
We kindle in our wishful praise of Goddess Lakshmi.
This day that once again a summons has gone out from
Ancient India's greatest visionaries of truth, from her
Star readers of the divine tablets of laws
Inside of God's cosmic enfoldings,
Who had read the heavenly
ornamental hieroglyphs of enkindled beauty on fire
Written on our black sky boards - eternity's backdropp -
This day a summons has gone out for us
To be enhancing God's endless
Divine Light yet in finite rows & lines of human-made shines
Down here on our top grounds of
Cosmic life on earth - now and here in gay array,
Lakshmi's Light to be held aloof,
Befitting to Her status as the
Secret Queen of all the riches existing for real or dreamed about
By very precious sets of ornamental lamps,
As all Hindustan does on Her day of days,
Having them illuminated without break for one day & one night
In a symbolic/mental/cosmic inner & outer balance of harmony,
Whose aggrandized face of lights will be reflected
In all peaceful faces of spirited holiday revellers,
As it will be felt in the sweet inner delight
Within the latters' shining homes.
And if I but were allowed one personal comment on
What in the end I feel will warrantee
True success & good luck with
Lakshmi arriving at the doorstep of one's house,
It is that it will have to come hand-in-hand
with our very own positive personal socializer attitudes
Put to tests all the while in our
Daily dealings with one another,
The selfsame attitudes that make us, knowingly or unknowingly,
Look either proudly and overruling, or egoistic and anti-social,
Or friendly and practical and endearing
In the eyes not only of Lakshmi, but also in
Those of all our other contemporaries.
If anything good were to be harvested
In festivities based on celestial myths of fine heavenly rites,
Be they lavishly designed or just simply lit
Suprahuman events performed on men's treaded grounds,
We ourselves also, with our minds, will have to
Catch from the fire of our votive lamps
Sparkles of the divinely lighted motifs
And, gleaming from within with the fires of heaven's messengers,
Announcing, to alert us, the arrival of the Goddess' party
We'll finally hear Lakshmi's knock on our own main door.
After all, dear friend, isn't everything in matters human
One big issue of attitude in how we fare in life?
And isn't all well-faring even on the lower and also
On the higher stages of life poised on
Something like sound, wholesome attitudes,
Below the human level a balanced control of powers,
Above the common human reaches an endless
Flurry of soaring divine intuition?
These are the things I've always tried to keep in mind,
Along all other lines that go with a divine cause.
Naturally all this of what I'm saying here only applies
If someone really desires by one's self, and
Be it just for a day's occasion, to
Take a divine stroll
In a royal park of heavenly imagery, as of
Gay India's enlightened soulscapes, and to
Follow suit on a wonderful, grand belief
On a day of glory,
Kept vibrant in its mother country
From times immemorial right up to this day.
We all want good fortunes to prevail throughout
And for real in our lives, and
Not just for a moment or two, and
Neither for flashy effects only during
Pseudo shows that entertain the lesser fortuned! -
Aside from mustering up our faith in
'Spirit over Mind, and Mind over Matter',
We ought to have verily our lights burning physically!
- While God does see all of our unacted intentions,
It is only proper to prove that we mean
What we express by symbols
By virtually performing the rituals in universe time, just as
Children intuitively get themselves
Absorbed into simple games about life.
For bringing in the sacred momentum versus our own selves
In what we're doing to call up a great Goddess it is
That we keep on this day of Diwali, the Festival of Lights,
Great lamps glaring in our homes,
Remindful of the high essentials of the ancient myths, and of
Our benignly secretive mother Lakshmi, Lady of good lucks!
Celebrating Lakshmi's Day Of Lights makes for good entertainment,
'Tis a choice fun of street happenings,
If done so from house to house - and,
On top of all, 'tis
A wonderful life enhancer in general,
Attractively smiling lights of grace
Seen as one most wonderously lit face of happiness,
On a divine face with human features,
The face of Goddess.
HAPPY DIWALI
(written on Diwali 2006, October 22)
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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11.
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The Heart And The Apes Of The Dead Sea (translation with original)
Somewhere on the shores of some Dead Sea
- isn't the world full of Dead Seas -
there once lived in the course of time a tribe
that had lost their Heart somewhere.
And lo, these people were thriving very well
and became mighty fat.
Their wheat came to ripen and their grapes grew thick.
They were engaged in smart tradings
and led heinous wars
and the camels were bringing them home as booty
gold and precious stones
from beyond the mountains.
They were happy.
And the fattest of all their priests was speaking:
- Praise be to Allah!
Now only it is that his grace has been showered upon us more bountiful
than ever before!
Take note, all you faithful people,
that this overly generous gesture of Allah's
only stems from the fact
that the Heart, this obtrusive slayer of peace,
the Heart that is always discontented, always rebelling,
has been banished from within our midst.
Didn't it prey on our nights' sleep
and didn't it set up traps in the day on all our roads.
Didn't it always grab things against our tender laws.
Didn't it always,
resilient as the Heart is,
turn around our hallowed authorities and the noble judges,
so they'd only be good executioners of the undertaking.
When we were going to war,
when we were making peace,
didn't it always accuse us of having done the wrong thing.
Thrusting us all the time but into disgrace.
It is gone now.
Allah, he who sleeps within the Dead Sea,
did not look at the Heart with benevolent eyes:
also he had been constantly disturbed by it in his sleep.
Rejoice, all you faithful people,
Allah has driven it out into the middle of the barren lands,
there for it to waste away with hunger and thirst,
for us always to stay happy.
Praise be to Allah!
Allah, he who sleeps within the Dead Sea,
woke up one night:
he had heard someone call his name.
And lo, in the Dead Sea a live flame was alighted,
approaching like a swerving starlet,
and went down at the root of God's feet.
It was the Heart that had become enkindled.
It spoke:
- My father, I found with people no home where to stay.
And Allah was looking at it.
And he was listening to it.
And he cried.
And Allah raised his head from within the Dead Sea.
Then he heard what the fattest of all the priests was saying.
And Allah became very furious.
And Allah raised his hands.
And lo, the people were like apes in the morning.
But the Heart stayed with Allah.
And the tender God took it into his hand,
led it to his lips
and kissed it.
written by Finnish poet Uuno Kailas (1901-1933) of the Firebearer Era,
translated by Erhard Hans Josef Lang
in German:
Das Herzen und die Affen des Toten Meeres
Irgendwo an den Gestaden eines Toten Meeres
- ist doch die Welt voll mit Toten Meeren -
lebte irgendwann im Laufe der Zeit ein Stamm,
welcher sein Herzen irgendwo eingebüßt hatte.
Und siehe, diese Menschen gediehen sehr wohl
und wurden recht fett.
Ihr Weizen reifte und ihre Trauben schwollen dick auf.
Sie trieben einen gewieften Handel und führten schreckliche Kriege
und die Kamele trugen als Raubbeute nach hause
Gold und edle Steine von hinter den Bergen her.
Sie waren glücklich.
Und der fetteste von allen Priestern sprach:
- Gelobet sei Allah!
Jetzt erst hat sich dessen Gunst reichlicher denn je davor über uns
ergossen.
Wisset, all ihr Gläubigen,
daß diese großzügige Geste von Allah daher rührt,
daß jener zudringliche Störenfried des Friedens, das Herzen,
das allzeit unzufriedene, allzeit aufbegehrende Herzen,
endlich aus unserer Mitte verbannt ist.
Raubte es nicht uns den Schlaf der Nächte
und stellte es nicht am Tage auf all unsern Wegen Fallen auf.
Schnappte es nicht immer entgegen unsern lieblichen Gesetzen zu.
Verdrehte es nicht immer,
das Herz, dieser Aufmucker,
die hehre Vorherrschaft und die noblen Richter,
auf daß diese nur ja Hinrichtungsvollstrecker wären.
Wenn wir uns in den Krieg aufmachten,
oder wir dabei waren, Frieden zu stiften,
klagte es nicht immer an, daß wir falsch handelten.
Uns allzeit in Schmach und Schande stürzend.
Es ist nun fort.
Allah, er, der im Toten Meer schläft,
betrachtete das Herzen mit keinen wohlgefälligen Augen:
hatte doch dieses immerzu auch seinen Schlaf gestört.
Freuet Euch, all ihre Gläubigen,
Allah hat es hinausgejagt, mitten ins Wüstland hinein,
auf daß es durch Hunger und Durst eingehe,
auf daß wir allzeit glücklich wären!
Gelobet sei Allah!
Allah, er, der im Toten Meer schläft, wachte eines Nachts auf:
er hatte jemanden seinen Namen rufen gehört.
Und siehe, auf dem Toten Meer brannte eine lebende Flamme.
Sie näherte sich wie ein gleitender Stern
und ging an der Wurzel von Gottes Füssen nieder.
Es war das entflammte Herzen. Es sprach:
- Mein Vater, ich fand bei den Menschen keine Heimstätt'.
Und Allah betrachtete es
und hörte ihm zu
und weinte.
Und Allah erhob seinen Kopf aus dem Toten Meer.
Da hörte er das,
was der fetteste von allen Priestern sprach.
Und Allah erzürnte sehr.
Und Allah erhob seine Hände.
Und siehe, die Menschen waren am Morgen wie die Affen.
Das Herzen aber blieb bei Allah.
Und der zärtliche Gott nahm es an seine Hand,
führte es an seine Lippen
und küsste es.
* * * *
in the original Finnish:
SYDÄN JA KUOLLEEN MEREN APINAT.
Kuolleen meren rannalla jossakin
- maailmahan on kuolleita meriä täynnä -
asui jolloinkin ajan varrella suku,
joka oli unohtanut sydämensä jonnekin.
Ja katso, nämä ihmiset menestyivät hyvin
ja lihoivat hyvin.
Heidän vehnänsä kypsyi ja rypäleensä paisuivat.
He tekivät viekkaasti kauppaa
ja kävivät julmasti sotaa.
Ja kameelit kantoivat ryöstösaaliina kotiin
kultaa ja kalliita kiviä
vuorten takaa.
He olivat onnelliset.
Ja lihavin kaikista papeista puhui:
- Kiitetty olkoon Allah!
Nyt hänen siunauksensa on vuotanut ylitsemme
runsaampana kuin koskaan.
Tietkää, oi uskovaiset kaikki,
että tämä Allahin ylenpalttinen suosio johtuu siitä,
että tuo kärkäs rauhanrikkoja, Sydän,
alati tyytymätön, alati kapinoiva Sydän
on vihdoinkin keskuudestamme poissa.
Eikö hän riistänyt meiltä öittemme unta
ja päivällä virittänyt ansoja kaikille teillemme.
Eikö hän napissut aina lempeitä lakejamme vastaan.
Eikö hän solvannut aina, tuo niskuri Sydän,
pyhää esivaltaa ja jaloja tuomareita,
että he muka olisivat pyöveleitä.
Jos me ryhdyimme sotaan
tahi jos solmimme rauhan,
eikö hän syyttänyt, että me teimme väärin.
Eikö hän saattanut meidät alati häpeään.
Nyt hän on poissa.
Allah, hän joka Kuolleessa meressä nukkuu,
hän ei katsellut Sydäntä suopein silmin:
tämähän häiritsi alati hänenkin untaan.
Iloitkaatte, oi uskovaiset kaikki:
Allah on vienyt hänet keskelle erämaata,
että hän menehtyisi nälkään ja janoon,
että me olisimme alati onnelliset!
Kiitetty olkoon Allah!
Allah, hän joka Kuolleessa meressä nukkuu,
heräsi eräänä yönä:
hän oli kuullut jonkun huutavan nimeään.
Ja katso, Kuolleessa meressä paloi elävä liekki.
Se lähestyi niinkuin lentävä tähti
ja lankesi jumalan jalkojen juureen.
Se oli palava Sydän. Se puhui:
- Isäni, en ole löytänyt kotia ihmisten luota!
Ja Allah katseli häntä
ja kuunteli häntä
ja itki.
Ja Allah kohotti päätänsä Kuolleesta merestä.
Silloin kuuli hän sen,
mitä lihavin kaikista papeista puhui.
Ja Allah vihastui kovin.
Ja Allah kohotti kätensä:
ja katso, ihmiset olivat aamulla niinkuin apinat.
Mutta Sydän jäi Allahin luokse.
Ja lempeä jumala otti hänet käteensä,
nosti hänet huulilleen
ja suuteli häntä.
UUNO KAILAS
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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12.
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The Moon (translation with the original in Finnish)
The moon is glistening mute,
exploring if the tempestuous earth were taking his nap.
As if, with her eye getting sore, watching over a diseased son:
Is he putting down to rest, at least in the night, his heavy, delirious
head?
Suddenly into the screaming he will be waking up, to his nightmare, his
cursed state of being?
by Finnish poet Aaro Hellaakoski (1893 - 1952)
translated by Erhard Hans Josef Lang after its original in Finnish:
KUU
Kuu mykkä kumottaa,
tutkii, uinuuko hurja maa.
Kuin silmä äityen
poikaansa sairasta katsellen:
Laskeeko lepohon yölläkään raskaan, kuumehoureisen pään?
Herääko äkkiä parkaisuun, painajaiseen ja sadatteluun?
Aaro Hellaakoski
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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