Allein
Reprinted with permission from Bianca Döring; copyright belongs to the author
Die Nacht ist in mein Zimmer eingezogen
und alles schweigt vor ihrem Steingesicht,
auf dunklen Füßen geht ein Silberbogen:
in Mond, ein Stern, ich weiß es nicht.
Es ist so kühl auf meiner Hand, als schwebe
ein kleiner Vogel immer an mir her—
ach trag mich, die ich kaum mehr lebe
ins Eis, ins Feuer, weiter noch, ins Meer.
Da lieg ich unterm Traum und atme Träume
aus einer Gegend fern und hell wie Schnee
und eß mein Brot mit kalten Fingern—all die Räume
der Liebe sind verbrannt und tun nur weh.
Alone
Translation by Amy Elizabeth Bishop
The night has moved into my room—
all silences before its stone face.
A silver bow moves along on muffled, dark feet,
a moon, a star—something I do not know.
My hand is chilled, as if a small bird hovers—
always with me. Oh, carry me, the one
who scarcely lives any more, into the ice,
into the fire, even further into the sea.
There: I lie under a dream and breathe only dreams
from a home distant and bright as snow—
I eat my bread with cold fingers: all the quarters
of love are burnt up and only cause me pain.
Amy Elizabeth Bishop is a senior English (Creative Writing) major at SUNY Geneseo. She calls Cooperstown, NY home, although she hopes to become a Manhattanite after graduating this May. Her poetry appears or is forthcoming in Gandy Dancer, The Susquehanna Review, and Dialogist. She currently serves as the Editor of the GREAT Day Journal and as a fiction reader for The Rumpus and Wyvern Lit.
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