In the East

Recently picked up a collection of Georg Trakl's poems (German/English, trans. Getsi). Had one of those experiences you get when you're reading a translation and you hit on a word or phrase you think you can do better. Maybe later you realize it's not actually better, but it does get at the original in a different way, with a different shade of meaning. So you forge ahead, see if there's anything else that can be made new, check out other translations to make sure what you think is new is new. If you're lucky, you have something. If not, you've just played an intricate game of connect-the-dots. Here's my take on "Im Osten".

IN THE EAST
by Georg Trakl

Frenzied organ music of winter storms
Like the people’s dire rage—
Dark purple waves of combat,
Deciduous stars.

With shattered brow and silver arms,
Night calls to the soldiers dying.
In shadow under the ash trees of fall
The ghosts of the murdered sigh.

A wilderness of thorns grips the city.
Down bloody steps the moon
Chases traumatized women.
Frenzied wolves have trampled the gates.


The English language doesn't exactly lack Trakl translations, but at least there's not too many of this poem online. There is the ubiquitous James Wright and Robert Bly version. And then there's this wild one by Joel Sloman posted at Mark Lamoureux's blog.