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Best Poems From
ERHARD HANS JOSEF LANG
(January 8,1957)
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29.
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Stunning Stunt Smash-Hit Lesson
He had been known as a daredevil ever since.
That one day he had done it a few times,
his newest stunt meant to be outbeating himself.
Up and up again he went there onto his trapeze,
That he had set hanging at such a height
So he could still make it so-and-so
To dropp himself down in a fall, and -
This was his challenge really! -
By way of his arts learning how
To do in the fast drop
The proper turns of his supple body
For it to come landing in a graceful pose
Unhurt on touching down to the ground -
An artists feat he was set to master -
He had done it that day a few times -
Some four of his closest friends were
Watching on from down in the arena.
He succeeded twice.
Once he had already hurt himself
In one attempt in between.
With the fourth attempt
He got hurt so bad
Falling on his head so inadvertently
That they had to carry him away -
His life fifty-fifty.
None of his spectators
Eager to see him be successful
Had seen him fall at that fourth attempt.
He must have then dropped himself
Immediately after reaching onto the trapeze
Yet before anyone's eyes could have followed him up there.
His last landing came to be a fatal failure
Because, at the instance of his jumping,
He was not yet being secured
By the soft net of his onlookers' positive looks
To be spun Invisibly in the arena's
Overall Mind atmosphere
Composed of five well-wishing heads
Four of which the jumper unluckily had foregone.
He had jumped too early -
Afraid of his own fear.
He wanted to outbeat his fear
By jumping before fear could have reached his heart.
But he was not aware of the carrying
Importance of a supportive mind landscape.
A lesson that would have made him
Not only survive the jump from the daring height
But improve his skill of landing deftly.
The sad thing with all of this:
Even the poor daredevil's fatal death did not
Impart the wit of the tragedy's lesson
To his four friends.
As none of them, either, grasped
The good effects of vibrations from a friendly
Positively complex mind surrounding.
Our ill-fated daredevil was no dreamer,
But I dreamt too late of his tale.
The dreamer's wish now were that another
Pioneering boy briskly mindless of the importance
Of beneficial eyes and clapping hands
Would wake up to a healthy
Common sense of success.
And I'd wish that this story would
Show to all the others too -
No cowards either -
What stunning lesson
This stunning stunt smash-hit lesson holds
About our wondrous Mind!
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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30.
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Sunday Mass For The Vain
'I should have planned
Better with you,
But since, by this Sunday,
Already you've come
Thanking,
I feel
I should'nt push through,
So as
Not, for your vanity,
To entice discontentment
In you, '
someone pondered about another
In the Lord
At Sunday Mass,
And so, Sunday Mass didn't usher in the changes
Amass.
Sometimes, could a dive in the divine jive
Be timed
Out of time
And awry
With our daily hypersonic life
Out on the open plains?
Or
Sometimes, might it be useless to be, on Sundays only,
Attending mass
At a time
When one ought to be
Seeking the inner temple
Day in, day out,
Lost on an
Ill-guided stroll in time
In a dark cavern
Of a rude world,
Mondays, Tuesdays,
Wednesdays, Thursdays,
Fridays, Saturdays, too,
To be praying,
For the one with powers
To take over
The rudder
Ruder, now,
But in the end
Smoothing out all things? !
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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31.
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The Giant's Plaything (transl. and its original in German)
Castle Nideck of Alsace is well-known in legends,
the very heights, where, times ago, a castle stood of the giants,
it lies now in ruins,
the old homestead deserted, empty;
ask anyone about the race of the giants,
you shall find them no more.
Once upon a time a virgin maiden of the giants
came out of the castle,
enjoying herself, she was playing,
with no one to guard her outside the gates,
and she climbed down a slope right into the valley,
curious to explore into how things might have been down there.
Quick in a few steps
she has crossed through the woods near Haslach;
soon she has reached the habitat of men,
and the towns and villages and tilled acres there
appear to her eyes, indeed,
a very strange world.
As she glances down to her feet,
she now notices a farmer tilling his field;
to her, someone creeping to and fro,
a little creature, so very gay,
a plough glistening there in the sunlight as blank and clear.
'Oh! what a wonderful plaything! ' she exclaims,
'this I shall take with me home! '
Kneeling down, swiftly she spreads her handkerchief out,
and sweeps by her hands
everything there in motion,
up into a heap and onto her piece of cloth,
and, folding it,
with joyous leaps off she's rushing,
just the way we know that kids are,
she's hurrying back to her castle, looking fast for her father:
'Oh father, dear father, a plaything so wonderful!
As endearing as this,
I've never seen any thing up on our hills.'
The old man sat at his table drinking his freshly got wine;
the pleasure of his eyes,
he asked his little daughter:
'What squirmish things are these,
That you are carrying with you there,
inside your cloth?
You are full with joy
gamboling and prancing;
let me see, what you've got.'
And she's spreading out her small handkerchief
carefully taking to
putting up in one row,
the farmer, the plough and all the array;
everything set up tidy and neat on top of the table,
she starts clapping her hands
jumping and jubilating aloud.
But the old man turns a serious face to her,
as he is wiggling his head, and speaks:
'What have you done there?
This is not a thing to play with.
Whence you have come to have taken it,
there you shall go and return it to;
a farmer is not a toy for playing with,
what had come over your mind?
Do fast as I bid you,
without any grumbling;
if not for the farmer,
you'd have no bread;
our tribe of giants is
sprouting on the farmers' saplings,
a farmer is not a toy for playing with,
God beware you.'
Castle Nideck in Alsace is well-known in legends,
the very heights, where, times ago, a castle stood of the giants,
it lies now in ruins,
the old homestead deserted, empty;
ask anyone about the race of the giants,
you shall find them no more.
written in the year 1836 by Albert von Chamisso
(1781 - 1838 / Germany)
DAS RIESENSPIELZEUG
Burg Nideck ist im Elsaß der Sage wohlbekannt,
die Höhe, wo vorzeiten die Burg der Riesen stand;
sie selbst ist nun verfallen, die Stätte wüst und leer,
du fragest nach den Riesen, du findest sie nicht mehr.
Einst kam das Riesenfräulein aus jener Burg hervor,
erging sich sonder Wartung und spielend vor dem Tor
und stieg hinab den Abhang bis in das Tal hinein,
neugierig zu erkunden,
wie's unten möchte sein.
Mit wen'gen raschen Schritten durchkreuzte sie den Wald,
erreichte gegen Haslach das Land der Menschen bald,
und Städte dort und Dörfer und das bestellte Feld
erschienen ihren Augen gar eine fremde Welt.
Wie jetzt zu ihren Füßen sie spähend niederschaut,
bemerkt sie einen Bauer, der seinen Acker baut;
es kriecht das kleine Wesen einher so sonderbar,
es glitzert in der Sonne der Pflug so blank und klar.
'Ei! artig Spielding! ' ruft sie, 'das nehm' ich mit nach Haus! '
Sie knieet nieder, spreitet behend ihr Tüchlein aus
und feget mit den Händen, was sich da alles regt,
zu Haufen in das Tüchlein, das sie zusammenschlägt,
und eilt mit freud'gen Sprüngen, man weiß, wie Kinder sind,
zur Burg hinan und suchet den Vater auf geschwind:
'Ei Vater, lieber Vater, ein Spielding wunderschön!
So Allerliebstes sah ich noch nie auf unsern Höh'n.'
Der Alte saß am Tische und trank den kühlen Wein,
er schaut sie an behaglich, er fragt das Töchterlein:
'Was Zappeliges bringst du in deinem Tuch herbei?
Du hüpfest ja vor Freuden; laß sehen, was es sei.'
Sie spreitet aus das Tüchlein und fängt behutsam an,
den Bauer aufzustellen, den Pflug und das Gespann;
wie alles auf dem Tische so zierlich aufgebaut,
so klatscht sie in die Hände und springt und jubelt laut.
Der Alte wird gar ernsthaft und wiegt sein Haupt und spricht:
'Was hast du angerichtet?
Das ist kein Spielzeug nicht!
Wo du es hergenommen, da trag es wieder hin,
der Bauer ist kein Spielzeug,
was kommt dir in den Sinn?
Sollst gleich und ohne Murren erfüllen mein Gebot;
denn wäre nicht der Bauer, so hättest du kein Brot;
es sprießt der Stamm der Riesen aus Bauernmark hervor,
der Bauer ist kein Spielzeug,
da sei uns Gott davor.'
Burg Nideck ist im Elsaß der Sage wohlbekannt,
die Höhe, wo vorzeiten die Burg der Riesen stand;
sie selbst ist nun verfallen, die Stätte wüst und leer,
du fragest nach den Riesen, du findest sie nicht mehr.
* * *
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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32.
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The Idea Of Rituals (One Example Of An Ancient Traditional Vedic Ritual)
Satyakama the son of Jabala explained this
Doctrine of the prana (breath of life) to
Gosruti, the son of Vyaghrapada and said:
If one should tell this to a dry stump,
Branches would grow and leaves spring forth.
Now, if a man wishes to attain greatness,
He should perform the initiatory rite
On the day of the new moon and
Then on the night of the full moon
He should stir a paste of all the herbs
With curds and honey and offer it
As a libation in the fire
Where the melted butter is offered, saying:
Svaha to the oldest (jyashtha) and greatest (sreshtha) !
Then let him throw the remainder
Adhering to the ladle into the paste.
In the same manner he should offer a libation in the fire
Where the melted butter is offered, saying:
Svaha to the most excellent (vasishtha) !
Then let him throw the remainder adhering to the ladle into the paste.
In the same manner he should offer a libation in the fire
Where the melted butter is offered, saying:
Svaha to firmness (pratishthi) ! and
Then throw the remainder adhering to the ladle into the paste.
In the same manner he should offer a libation in the fire
Where the melted butter isoffered, saying:
Svaha to prosperity (sampad) ! and
Then throw the remainder adhering to the ladle into the paste.
In the same manner he should offer a libation into the fire
Where the melted butter is offered, saying:
Svaha to the abode (ayatana) ! and
Then throw the remainder adhering to the ladle into the paste.
Then, moving away a little from the fire
And holding the paste (mantha) in his hands,
He recites: Thou (prana) art ama by name,
For all this rests in thee.
He (i.e. the paste, which is the same as the prana) is the oldest,
The greatest, the king and the sovereign.
May he make me the oldest, the greatest, the king and the sovereign.
May I be all this!
Then he recites the following Rik-mantra,
Swallowing the paste (mantha) each time he utters a foot of the mantra:
We desire, of the great progenitor (i.e. the sun) -
Here he swallows a little-of the luminous, the food -
Here he swallows a little- the best and all-supporting -
Here he swallows a little -
We meditate quickly on the nature of the sun -
Here he swallows the whole.
Having cleansed the vessel made of metal or wood,
He lies down behind the fire,
On a skin or on the bare ground,
Controlling his speech and self-possessed.
If he sees a woman in a dream,
Then let him know that
His work (rite) has been a success.
If during rites performed with
A view to fulfilling certain desires,
He sees a woman in his dream,
Let him know of his success
From this vision in a dream, yea,
From this vision in a dream.
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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