One of the most problematical and most beautiful German poems I know

[mothwing]

Genesis 4:9
Und der HERR sprach zu Kain: Wo ist dein Bruder Abel? Und er sagte: Ich weiß nicht. Bin ich meines Bruders Hüter?
(Then the LORD said to Cain, "Where is Abel your brother?" And he said, "I do not know. Am I my brother's keeper?")


Abel steh auf

Abel steh auf
es muß neu gespielt werden
täglich muß es neu gespielt werden
täglich muß die Antwort noch vor uns sein
die Antwort muß ja sein können
wenn du nicht aufstehst Abel
wie soll die Antwort
diese einzig wichtige Antwort
sich je verändern
wir können alle Kirchen abschließen
und alle Gesetzbücher abschaffen
in allen Sprachen der Erde
wenn du nur aufstehst
und es rückgängig machst
die erste falsche Antwort
auf die einzige Frage
auf die es ankommt
steh auf
damit Kain sagt
damit er es sagen kann
Ich bin dein Hüter
Bruder
wie sollte ich nicht dein Hüter sein
Täglich steh auf
damit wir es vor uns haben
dies Ja ich bin hier
ich
dein Bruder
Damit die Kinder Abels
sich nicht mehr fürchten
weil Kain nicht Kain wird
Ich schreibe dies
ich ein Kind Abels
und fürchte mich täglich
vor der Antwort
die Luft in meiner Lunge wird weniger
wie ich auf die Antwort warte

Abel steh auf
damit es anders anfängt
zwischen uns allen

Die Feuer die brennen
das Feuer das brennt auf der Erde
soll das Feuer von Abel sein

Und am Schwanz der Raketen
sollen die Feuer von Abel sein

- Hilde Domin



Get up Abel

Get up Abel
it must be played anew
it must be played anew every day
every day the answer must still be in front of us
the answer yes must be possible
if you don’t get up Abel
how is the answer
to this only important question
ever to change
we can close all the churches
and abolish all law books
in all the languages of the earth
if you'd only get up
and undo it
that first wrong answer
to the only question
that matters
get up
so that Cain says
so that he can say
I am your keeper
brother
why should I not be your keeper
Get up every day
so it is front of us
this Yes I am here
I
your brother
So that the children of Abel
are no longer afraid
because Cain does not become Cain
I write this
I a child of Abel
and am afraid every day
of the answer
the air in my lungs grows less
as I wait for the answer

Get up Abel
so that it begins differently
between us all

The fires that burn
the fire that burns on the earth
shall be Abel’s fire

And on the tails of the rockets
shall be the fires of Abel

-----

I can't read this poem out loud because something about verse 23 just knocks me over.

There is a lot about this poem that both really fascinates and really, really bothers me. When I read the poem for the first time, I only read a version that's often quoted online - which is basically the entire poem, only the last five verses missing, ending on the pleading request.

In a poem written by persecuted, Jewish, exiled Hilde Domin, has a significance and a force that's difficult for me to take. Most problematic during my first reading was that in this poem, she appeals to Abel, the unfathomable demands made here from the victim, the desperate requests to the victim to just "get up" and undo what was done made me deeply uncomfortable.

Discovering the verses that had been missing, I started feeling just as uncomfortable about the "rockets" and the "fires of Abel".
I am still not sure I have really grasped those verses. I am still not entirely sure what to think, but it is one of her most moving poems I have ever read.

Comments

[bronnyelsp.livejournal.com]

Wow, that is moving. It also puts me in mind a bit of "Eve to her daughters," by Judith Wright, although I think "Get up Abel" is superior.

Here is Wright's poem:

It was not I who began it.
Turned out into draughty caves,
hungry so often, having to work for our bread,
hearing the children whining,
I was nevertheless not unhappy.
Where Adam went I was fairly contented to go.
I adapted myself to the punishment: it was my life.

But Adam, you know...!
He kept on brooding over the insults,
over the trick They had played on us, over the scolding.
He had discovered a flaw in himself
and he had to make up for it.
Outside Eden the earth was imperfect,
the seasons changed, the game was fleet-footed,
he had to work for our living, and he didn't like it.
He even complained of my cooking
(it was hard to compete with Heaven).

So he set to work.
The earth must be made a new Eden
with central heating, domesticated animals,
mechanical harvesters, combustion engines,
escalators, refrigerators,
and modern means of communication
and multiplied opportunities for safe investment
and higher education for Abel and Cain
and the rest of the family
You can see how pride had been hurt.

In the process he had to unravel everything,
because he believed that mechanism
was the whole secret - he was always mechanical-minded.
He got to the very inside of the whole machine
exclaiming as he went So this is how it works!
And now that I know how it works, why, I must have invented it.
As for God and the Other, they cannot be demonstrated,
and what cannot be demonstrated
doesn't exist.
You see, he had always been jealous.

Yes, he got to the centre
where nothing at all can be demonstrated.
And clearly he doesn't exist; but he refuses
to accept the conclusion.
You see, he was always an egotist.

It was warmer than this in the cave;
there was none of this fall-out.
I would suggest, for the sake of the children,
that it's time you took over.

But you are my daughters, you inherit my own faults of character;
you are submissive, following Adam
even beyond existence.
Faults of character have their own logic
and it always works out.
I observed this with Abel and Cain.

Perhaps the whole elaborate fable
right from the beginning
is meant to demonstrate this: perhaps it's the whole secret.
Perhaps nothing exists but our faults?
At least they can be demonstrated.

But it's useless to make
such a suggestion to Adam.
He has turned himself into God,
who is faultless, and doesn't exist.

[mothwing.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing, that's a great poem, I love the last four lines especially.

[fourthage.livejournal.com]

Damn, I wish I could read it in the original German. That hits right between the eyes. Thank you for sharing it.

[mothwing.livejournal.com]

And I wish my translation was better, seriously, it's... well, poetry is always difficult if not impossible to translate. Glad you like it.