Gertrud Kolmar > Quotes

“out of darkness i come, a woman.
and on i go and on.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“She filled herself entirely with the molten dark.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“I am the dumb, the wild, the things now dead / That men have killed for being mute and strange”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems of Gertrud Kolmar

“The Woman Poet // Die Dichterin

You hold me now completely in your hands.

My heart beats like a frightened little bird's
Against your palm. Take heed! You do not think
A person lives within the page you thumb.
To you this book is paper, cloth, and ink,

Some binding thread and glue, and thus is dumb,
And cannot touch you (though the gaze be great
That seeks you from the printed marks inside),
And is an object with an object's fate.

And yet it has been veiled like a bride,
Adorned with gems, made ready to be loved,
Who asks you bashfully to change your mind,
To wake yourself, and feel, and to be moved.

But still she trembles, whispering to the wind:
"This shall not be." And smiles as if she knew.
Yet she must hope. A woman always tries,
Her very life is but a single "You . . ."

With her black flowers and her painted eyes,
With silver chains and silks of spangled blue.
She knew more beauty when a child and free,
But now forgets the better words she knew.

A man is so much cleverer than we,
Conversing with himself of truth and lie,
Of death and spring and iron-work and time.
But I say "you" and always "you and I."

This book is but a girl's dress in rhyme,
Which can be rich and red, or poor and pale,
Which may be wrinkled, but with gentle hands,
And only may be torn by loving nails.

So then, to tell my story, here I stand.
The dress's tint, though bleached in bitter lye,
Has not all washed away. It still is real.
I call then with a thin, ethereal cry.

You hear me speak. But do you hear me feel?”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“You hear me speak. But do you hear me feel?”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems of Gertrud Kolmar

“She, however, stood and said nothing. / Small, unnoticed, she stood in the crowd, listened, and said / nothing.”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems of Gertrud Kolmar

“Il y a des mots qu'on peut prendre dans la main. Et certains qui ont une odeur... Par exemple, "poêle à frire". Je n'aime pas dire "poêle à frire", la pièce est aussitôt pleine de fumée grasse.

- Et qu'est-ce que tu dis alors ?

Elle réfléchit. "Je dis "rose"." Et je vis le mouvement, je vis le souffle de ses lèvres fleurir comme un bourgeon qui s'ouvre, doucement, avec des feuilles à la respiration sourde, et une odeur merveilleuse. Rose.”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Susanna

“The Blessed

I am in the darkness and alone.
In front of me stands the door.
When I open it, I am bathed in light.
There are a father, a mother and sister,
A dog, which, dumb, still barks in friendliness.

How can I lie, and how can I say
That I, hidden there in darkness, have not come to harm them?
I drag myself over the threshold.

Snow blossoms in my eyes.
I saw him bowing to me courteously;
How much that hurt me.

How could my heart find peace,
When round it raced the voice of the old man?
I live in coldness.

I dried my tears and went
To where the man was eating with his family.
It was so calm and loving a reception.

I felt the violins sounding inside me
At first, so sweetly, so gently.
They will never sound again, when I have finished.

Fear drenched my hands.
Beneath me I could almost taste my womb.
A sneer seemed to say: 'Have you no shame?
What have you done with the wedding-ring on your finger?
Terrible thief, where did you hide your courage?
Does the nakedness of my right hand mean so little to me?'

I felt so poor and naked.
I wriggled in my chair
And trembled to think what I must do.

Pity clawed at my heart and shook my body
Like a tree in a winter field blown by the wind
Shedding leaves.

I told myself it was time to go,
Scolding my wan, faded self for my little worries.
Pleased with myself again, I steeled myself for the torture.

The joy of it! Oh, how I want to be
Just like an animal and be happy again!
I sharpen my claws with a knife.

It is still night, and that thing called shame,
I may not let it show itself.
I know the train that tears through the woods.

I go out to the unfeeling rails.
Weary, I am glad to go to bed,
Running across two flat sticks of iron.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“I was never one of those who collect many smaller joys to make a larger happiness as though putting together a bouquet of flowers.

For me there had to be the one great ecstasy, the perfect happiness, a sun which then poured forth its rays of lesser delights. This sun may be at times clouded over, shrouded in fog, hidden by night; yet I know that it remains there, steadfast—a fixed star and not a wandering planet.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“Métamorphoses

la nuit je veux l'enrouler autour de moi comme un drap chaud
elle avec ses étoiles blanches, avec sa malédiction grise
avec ses bouts ondoyants, qui traquent les coqs des jours,
je pends dans les charpentes aussi raide qu'une chauve-souris,
je me laisse tomber dans l'air et je pars en chasse.

Homme, j'ai rêvé de ton sang, je te mords jusqu'à la blessure,
je me love dans tes cheveux et j'aspire ta bouche.
Au-dessus des tours émondées les cimes du ciel sont noires.
De leurs troncs dénudés suinte de la résine vitreuse
vers des coupes invisibles de porto.
Dans mes yeux marron demeure le reflet,
Avec mes yeux marron doré je pars chercher ma proie,
je capture poisson dans les tombes, celles qui se tiennent entre les maisons
je capture poisson dans la mer : et la mer est une place plus loin
avec des mats brisés, des amours noyés.

Les lourdes cloches du navire sonnent venant de la forêt des algues.
Sous la forme du navire se fige une forme d'enfant,
dans ses mains du limon, au front une lumière.
Entre nous les eaux voyagent, je ne te garde pas.
Derrière des vitres gelées luisent des lampes bariolées et blanches,
des cuillères livides coulent dans le bol, glace multicolore ;
je vous appâte avec des fruits rouges, faits avec mes lèvres

je suis un petit en-cas dans le gobelet de la nuit.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“The Buried Woman // Die Begrabene

In life we all pursued our aims.
What held us up was lust and games.
What drove us on was want and strife,
And what we earned: an end to life.

So now I lie stretched out alone,
All covered up with earth and stone.
"I have and want" I cannot say;
"I must and will" became my way.

In lands of light exults decay.
He clothes himself as blue as a day;
In many forms deceives the eye,
And builds the tower of Babel high.

We see his face in movie halls
And nailed to newsstands, fences, walls;
His name is there for all to see;
"Success," he's called, "Technology."

His cruel machines, his brutal crimes
Break every record of our times.
His coffin governs East and West.
But will it soon be laid to rest?

The victory of death seems near.
But no! At last a grave appears,
Awakens, yawns its jaws to bite,
And crushes death in lasting night.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“The murderers are loose!

They search the world
All through the night,
oh God, all through the night!
To find the fire kindled in me now,
This child so like a light, so still and mild.
They want to put it out.
Like pouring ink
Their shadows seep from angled walls;
Like scrawny cats they scuttle
Timidly across the footworn steps.
And I am shackled to my bed
With grating chains all gnawed with rust
That weigh upon me, pitiless and strong.
And bite raw wounds into my helpless arms.
The murderer has come!

He wears a hat,
A broad-brimmed hat with towering pointed peak;
Upon his chin sprout tiny golden flames
That dance across my body; it is good…
His huge nose sniffs about and stretches out
Into a tentacle that wriggles like a rope.
Out of his fingernails crawl yellow maggots,
Saffron seeds that sprinkle down on me
Into my hair and eyes.
The tentacle Gropes for my breasts, at rose-brown nipples,
And I see its white flesh twist into the blackness;
Something sinks upon me, sighs and presses—
I can’t go on…I can’t…Oh let the blade strike down
Like a monstrous tooth that flashes from the sky!
Oh crush me! There, where blood-drops fly,
Can you hear it cry, can you hear it?
“Mother!” Oh the stillness…
In my womb: the axe.
From either side of it break forks of flame.
They meet and fold together now:
My child.
Of dark green bronze, so stern and grave.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“Come.
For the sun has crept down in its cave; its warm red breath
has blown away.”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems of Gertrud Kolmar

“The Swan

Oh, a swan!
Blooming in grace and power.
Were you thrown out of the forest of reeds by Pan
To flourish as a white rose-flower?

Do not doubt:
Over the tired waves
An unearthly light shines out;
He hides his bright plumage.

The face of the flood-tide
Grows clearer and clearer to see.
Poppy-milk ripples, runs wide,
Where the wings rested momentarily.

Image of woman,
He sings the deepest of deaths;
Out of the glass-cold dew
The sweet silence drips from his breath.

Cup of down,
Defenceless, utterly abandoning,
He has forgotten the sound
And the dreams by evening.

Floating, drifting,
Changed into golden grey,
The swan is singing
A song whose end is sadness and decay.”
― Gertrud Kolmar

“Your eyes, now gleaming dark obsidian,
Now deep and somber velvet jungle flowers.”
― Gertrud Kolmar, Dark Soliloquy: The Selected Poems of Gertrud Kolmar