Dawn and Overcoming Writer's Block

but not in the usual ways

Writer’s block finally caught up with me—not the standard type of writer’s block, but the stress of weeks of concern and care as my sister has been quite ill. The whole situation is far from being resolved, as it appears to be an issue which, while not life-threatening, is difficult to treat. It’s hard to see her in pain and struggling to produce the artwork she is so skilled at creating.

During this time, I’ve found it increasingly difficult myself to focus enough to write even a single poem. Scattered stanzas litter my computer files along with outright drivel which I’ll eventually delete.

In the middle of all of this I began a new blog, or rather (this being 2022) a newsletter, filled with old poetry, excerpts from novels, paintings from yesteryear… things that have cheered me in the past and given me a sense of solid ground under my feet.

And for my most recent post there, I found a jolly little German poem I wanted to use, one which begged for a proper translation. So I tried my hand at the task; and, somehow, translating this—bringing it into English while striving to keep it as close as possible to the original sense and style—broke through my writer’s block.

So, though this post will reach you slightly later than usual, here it is!

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This first poem is the only one of my earlier fragments at all worth reading… if it is that! I still haven’t decided.

The Crows

The hum of the air
That flows
Between empty sky
And the long, slow
Wingbeats of crows

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This is my translation of Christian Morgenstern’s Die Drei Spatzen, which allowed me to begin writing again. Perhaps I should explain that though I cannot speak or understand spoken German, I can read it ever so slightly because that is the one way I have had access to it. I love both German Romantic poetry and the composers who set it to music, particularly Schubert. But I make no claims about my capacity to use the language!

The Three Sparrows

The hazel bush is winter-bare;
Belly by belly, three sparrows sit there.

There’s Erich, right, and left is Franz;
The middle one’s the cocksure Hans.

Just now their eyes are fast shut to;
For here the snow keeps falling–whoo!

Move close together, tight as tight,
While midmost Hans is warmest–right!

Each hears the others’ heartbeats in the chill;
If they’ve not gone away, they sit there still.

–my translation, first published in…

The Snow is Falling

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And finally, here is a poem I wrote just this morning. It’s strange to think how grateful I am to be able to create four coherent stanzas, but sometimes the small things are really the biggest things.

Dawn-Dusk

The ground is crisp beneath my feet
Where night and morn and I all meet;
The light of dawn is blue and sweet–
The first light of the newest day.

Above the mountains, where the gray
Joins earth to sky, the sun’s first ray
Glows melon-gold–so far away
And high above the end of night.

But here the moment slows its flight;
The ground is crisp with winter’s bite;
The dawn just touches, blue and bright;
The old moon still stands thin and high.

The moments wait while earth and I
Look out through half-lights, where they lie
Between the dusk and dawn, while sky
And earth and I just pause to greet.

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Lastly, here is the “About” page from my new blog, which explains its purpose and format. I’d love for you to check it out!

Both free and paid subscriptions are available. A paid subscription might be just the thing for a holiday gift that will continue throughout the year!