In a dark-wooded forest
Full of creaking, groaning trees
On a clearing by the lake so green,
So puzzling and deep,
Stood a man in his prime,
Not yet old, but aged to weep.
He breathed-in the coolness
Of the after-thundery air,
Stood still for a while there,
Unable but to stare
At the waters smooth as glass,
Feeling helpless and bare.
Where are you, Undine?
I miss you, my Love!
Are you drowned in this lake?
Or riding waterfall sparks?
Are you lost in the sea?
Or fused in the fog?
Where are you, my Heart?
My Undine I have lost ---
He received no response,
But the giggling of the woods,
Nature throwing him coolly
A few pitiful looks,
Raising pain from that past,
Left by hook or by crook.
From that lingering past
Of his lingering fears,
These haunting longings
Of his younger years
Breaking down haimish walls,
Bursting barriers to tears.
Undine, Undine!
I came looking for you.
I have fought my way
Through ignorance and fire,
Crossing landscapes of still
And waves of desire,
Now Myself is my compass -
It´s Hans, your Admirer!
Sunken fay who´d devoured him
With her legs, her mind,
A lost nymph of subconscious
More sweeter than lies,
Her imploring demand,
Wrapped in wrathly kind ---
His temptress of presence,
His challenging minx,
Now he´s ready to face her
To deal with the jinx,
He´s eager to greet
That redemptory sting---
Just look now! I´m coming!!
I´m crossing the line
Of water that lies between
Me and me---
Immortality´s sold out, let me
Taste your soul, let me
Feel anything of what
Future could be---
*************************
Alice McDuff ~ 17 February 2007
Artwork: Rescate by CasallArt
This poem is inspired by the myth of Undine, the water nypm, the elemental of water.
I wrote this poem as a follow-up to “The Roman Visitor” and as part of a cycle on myths I´m working on, but also as a tribute to the wonderful German poetess, novelist and author Ingeborg Bachmann who died in 1973 after accidentally setting herself on fire. In fact, it is an attempt to reply to her stunning short novel “Undine Goes”, taken out of her book “The Thirties Year”, (first published in 1961) translated into English by Michael Bullock in 1987. I ordered that book via Internet and will post the Undine Goes-novel here as soon as I get it, so that anyone interested can read all this again in that context.
I wrote this poem as a follow-up to “The Roman Visitor” and as part of a cycle on myths I´m working on, but also as a tribute to the wonderful German poetess, novelist and author Ingeborg Bachmann who died in 1973 after accidentally setting herself on fire. In fact, it is an attempt to reply to her stunning short novel “Undine Goes”, taken out of her book “The Thirties Year”, (first published in 1961) translated into English by Michael Bullock in 1987. I ordered that book via Internet and will post the Undine Goes-novel here as soon as I get it, so that anyone interested can read all this again in that context.
Last but not least, it was Paul Klee´s impressionist painting “Deep in the Woods” (1939) that led to the title of this poem.
Well, thanks to everybody who read that far:-)
For more, see:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ondine_(mythology)
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9B0DE4D61E3CF93AA15752C1A961948260 http://www.fembio.org/english/biography.php/woman/biography/ingeborg-bachmann/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ingeborg_Bachmann
For more, see:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ondine_(mythology)
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9B0DE4D61E3CF93AA15752C1A961948260 http://www.fembio.org/english/biography.php/woman/biography/ingeborg-bachmann/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ingeborg_Bachmann
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