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Best Poems From
ERHARD HANS JOSEF LANG
(January 8,1957)
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33.
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Life Is In No Hurry To Evolve
Life is in no hurry to evolve:
Or wouldn't we otherwise,
In one span of life-time,
Be allowed to grow more than
One set of teeth of our own?
Our baby's first set of mouthware
Naturally being the croppings from
Yet an older life that was spent away, in order, all over again,
For the game of Life to make itself up rejuvenating,
Once more, for all its many many countless grand thrusts,
To be given a new chance to altogether
Make for the better,
(And as such, thus, the first set of teeth
Actually not to be counted.)
Only once in life we grow teeth.
Life is in no hurry to evolve.
Yet, this serves as no excuse for
Staying put teethless for ever
In one's time given to live.
Our own Maker stands way above these earthly
Wallowings in our high-speed planetary times,
While He the God did everything physically possible
To be slowly getting on with creating down here
Us fine living embodiments of Einsteinian equations.
Taking things likewise as divinely easy,
As earthlings it must be our privilege,
While making some big things out of
Our own small selves and the life given us
To speed it all up a bit - in our very own ways and time,
For many many more, more happily rejoicing
Lives and life-times in our posteriority to come.
Let's thus get on with our human life's (r) evolution!
I for one would like to see money abolished- worldwide:
Men have invented many incredibly
Systematically functioning toys and gadgets.
Can't we invent a systematic new world order that
Could get around to satisfying all people's needs and wants
Without the humiliation connected to all give-&-take
In the name of that so hard-to-get money
Owned only by God's earth's smartguys
And those clans of millionaires?
I believe we can!
But only so, I think, when we realize
What it implies accordingly,
And also especially for this case of human development, that
Life is in no hurry to evolve.
Speak up, People! !
People will listen to you! !
* * *
I recommend readers to take a look at my Votelet page and eventually cast a personal vote at http: //www.network54.com/Votelet/38264 on the issue mentioned in this poem
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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34.
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Light Night Breeze To One Who Calls Himself A Friend
My erratic son, why were we going down?
Better to always watch out for safety passages
in time with the joints' key holder,
and most especially so,
when busied in the go-down haul
by nightfall yet;
suddenly one might find
oneself stuck in the dark
shut up there until sun up.
Once at night on the other side of life
they're all but night revellers, at the very best.
And under pink canopies of
star-lit human amusing
we're surging higher & higher
Way out of reach & way out of ear-shot;
once trapped in despair at night,
there it is for the one to
remain locked away
overnight
until a new morn will dawn.
Where in the world are seen
such amusing stars of the
night, yet to be caring about
the forlorn & cast away,
who in their very
awkwardness only were but
hostile elements
for us the free, who need
to get out after dark,
to fill up the emptied vessel
of the soul
in our well-deserved times-out?
Stifled & betrifled,
the torpid victim of the
night may only pray for the
spirit of the brave & wise to
come down on him,
so not as to get even more
miserable entrapped by night
yet being entangled
in heart-rending nightmares
with the wits lost already.
One black glimpse from the
eye of a depressed
desperate
forlorn in the night
emits such a negative
magnetism
that can be sending a knock-out
blow to all fire of life
within any of us
out there on the bright side
of the night
in the blue light of our moon
that is blooming with lush desires.
And don't petty yourself for
being left unconsidered,
caveman son of egotism in
your pitch-black night lair,
when you yourself have
counted yourself out
from all brightening star
tracks that lead us in joy
through the night;
you had been out of time
with all the others
who know to inform
themselves well during the day.
Take this dark lesson of
yours now as a ready-made
chance of your night
to make a better man out of you,
as there's nothing more for
you to do on this field of
yours turned barren
besides waiting and waiting
at this turn
for a new season to come around
when once again it will be
also the season of all
blunderers for sowing their
seed of new life,
and for brooding total re-make.
And believe me, my fallen son,
locked up there in the go-down:
try and help one cramped
soul out of its hole
while yourself being in for a
high in the night,
and the coarse winds from
off the speeches of this
sorry one
verily might blast all your so
passionately concerted
endeavors at once,
in one saddened moment.
It's a sheer waste of one's
self
to keep on hoping on
once already somewhere
having become a goner;
better yet to be hopping on
onto another,
for there to hope & hope on.
This time around, be
smarter, ill-guided son,
make sure, no more to
make for the party's goner!
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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35.
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Lullaby To The Longing (translation)
Take, O Beloved, your head into your hands and listen up.
I shall sing you a song.
I'll sing for you of woes, of death and of endings.
I'll sing for you of the ending that parted us.
Come with me and close your eyes,
I shall rock you in a cradle now,
We'll both now dream of happiness,
We'll both now dream the goldenmost of lies.
We'll dream ourselves far away, back far away.
And lo, in our dreams, Beloved,
Days full of light do come back again.
Forgotten the hours full of pangs and emptiness,
Of sadness and suffering and renunciation.
Yet then, our awakening, Beloved, will be a sombre one -
Ah, everything will be more empty than ever -
Oh, if only these dreams could re-establish my happiness,
Chase away these wild-hot woes of mine!
* * * * * * * * *
a poem by Jewish Nazi concentration camp victim Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger (1924 -1942)
in its original German:
Schlaflied für die Sehnsucht
O lege, Geliebter, den Kopf in die Hände und höre.
Ich sing' dir ein Lied.
Ich sing' dir von Weh und vom Tod und vom Ende.
Ich sing' dir vom Ende das schied.
Komm. schließe die Augen,
Ich will dich dann wiegen,
Wir träumen dann beide vom Glück.
Wit träumen dann beide die goldensten Lügen,
Wir träumen uns beide weit, weit zurück.
Und sieh nur, Geliebter,
Im Traume da kehren wieder die Tage voll Licht.
Vergessen die Stunden, die wehen und leeren,
Von Trauer und Leid und Verzicht.
Doch dann - das Erwachen, Geliebter, ist Grauen -
Ach, alles ist leerer als je -
Oh, könnten die Träume mein Glück wieder bauen,
Verjagen mein wild-heißes Weh!
Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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36.
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Man Wasn't Meant To Trudge On For Ever In The Mire
People can never stand to admit that times have changed
And that time had come to do away with the old decrees.
'Wouldn't it mean to admit our fathers
who initiated the decrees were wrong? '
The communists didn't get over their Stalins and Lenins,
until dissatisfied hordes of their people finally
came to slash all of them off their feet.
While it could have been so easy: just to get together and,
coming to the conclusion
something completely new had to be started,
a whole new world of a system,
to decide to make it happen
that from the following day on
it will be orange where
red had been the color of the day -
for a well-founded try.
But no! : 'wouldn't it be equal to a slap in the face of
our elders who had founded the current principles? '
Imagine they'd come and legalize all of a sudden things
that their fathers for some reason had prohibited by law,
and many, many citizens, over time, had gone to jail
for breaking that law,
although they now had all the best reasons
to revoke the old ban,
still they wouldn't do so, against all better insights and
insider advices of their time,
not because they were bad,
not because they didn't care,
but because....
- not only of the dreaded numbers of culprits
possibly to be indemnified -
but because they just can't 'admit that
how their fathers had handled things was plain wrong.'
But what they don't know, all
those who argue like that, is:
their very fathers would have most probably,
supposed they had lived in their own days,
made exactly these changes
required by the altered needs of time,
that they are not ready to make -
in the names of themselves, their fathers.
Their fathers were visionaries, revolutionaries and human adventurers.
They are but cowards, boot lickers, and an unprogressive lot.
The day these obnoxiously stubborn ones of today will meet up in heaven with their fathers,
their fathers will look down on them.
They had not understood the latters' messages at all.
Stalin, in heaven, might want to make friends rather
with the ones who toppled the Berlin Wall,
than still to pose in heaven on and on,
to be praised evermore by those stubborn
blind-folded estranged foolish
heroes from the latter days
who had imprisoned a once great soul to
its corpse on a changing earth without far-sightedness.
Now this is something that applies,
not only to the communists, now gone,
but to many many other factions, sects,
religions, ideologies amidst the miseries of today's world.
If something is practically just
not good to any people on the globe,
then it ought to be eventually discarded
and done away with as something wrong
and to be overcome,
whatever it might be what had been said or
written once by those who lived in another time and age.
On what is the will to change for better to be based?
On God's pledge to fulfill himself by becoming Man.
God's hands seem to have got tired
from all the kneading to shape His man.
Man, why don't you want to meet our God
midways and be of help in His endeavor! ?
Remember, God doesn't need you to make himself better,
but you could need Him, to overcome your cowardice,
to stand up and start something better,
in the face of your smiling forefathers.
Man, learn to discern what is good with your traditions,
and does no harm,
from what had been misunderstood,
and needs to be changed,
and act accordingly -
for the better of our whole human lot.
Erhard Hans Josef Lang
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