Springtime over Berlin

Sun is stuck as if cemented.

Trees pretending that they sprout.

Blue sky throws well-ornamented

Just a handful clouds about.

City smog and not May's fragrance–

Springtime over Great-Berlin!

–Sweet and well-familiar fragrance…

Comes at best from gasoline.

Through the Grunewald are strolling

Skittle-Players here and there.

And a lute sounds just appalling

As it's used by hiking pair.

With the family ev'ry weekend

(Typically it's with the bride, ofcourse)

Hiking in the sandy upland

Where the coffee 's made outside.

Summer night park conversation…

Pair of lovers on the bench.

– But the older generation

Sits in garden-restaurench.

Mothers start to place their youngster

On the sunny balcony.

And two weekends after Easter

Love 's in season heavily…


Ashen Days

(For Sonja P.)

All of our ashen days

Pile up ev'ry quiet night

High to form a wall that towers.

Stone joins stone without a hole.

Sadness of those empty hours

Locks itself within the soul.

 

Dreams appear and melt away

Ghost-like, day break comes at last. –

Always timid, with delays

We reach for the brighter sky,

And in shades of ashen days

We just live, 'cause we don't die…


Little Postcard from the Havel

 

The moon hangs like a kitschy lampion

In Berlin's firmament.

A steamship named "Pavillion"

Returns from its weekend.

 

A choir chimes into the night,

The silent Havel's mute.

– Faced with a glee-club's vocal might

Some crows turn back en route.

 

Out of the bar sways its last guest,

It blurs the final tone.

The coffee garden "Forest's Rest"

Still bawls its gramophone.

 

The dancehall's empty now and gray.

(– They count the revenue…)

At last, the restroom employee

Leaves too.

 

From boats it whispers here and there.

The couples go home now.

– All water sports turn everywhere

Oft into love somehow.

 

Still pine-trees nod in wood's retreat.

The squandered Sunday ends.

And then the city asphalts greet

The first streetcar ascends...


Translated from the German by Andreas Nolte 

Andreas Nolte was born in Germany in 1961. He moved to the US in 1988 while working as a financial analyst for a German company. He obtained a Master's degree in German literature from the University of Vermont and has published books and articles on various topics, especially poetry, exile, and proverbs. Since the summer of 2009, he is a high school teacher at Burlington High School in Vermont.