BIO
Ingeborg Bachmann is one of the prominent poet of Austria. She was a part of the legendary literary circle known as Gruppe 47, whose members also included Ilse Aichinger, Paul Celan, Heinrich Böll, Marcel Reich-Ranicki and Günter Grass. Bachmann’s literary work focuses on themes like personal boundaries, establishment of the truth, and philosophy of language, the latter in the tradition of Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein. Many of her prose works represent the struggles of women to survive and to find a voice in post-war Austrian society.
BIO
Sarita Jenamani (India/Austria) was born in Cuttack, Orissa and studied Economics and Management Studies in India and Austria. She writes in English, Hindi as well as in her mother tongue, Odia. Having three books of poetry, she has been published in a number of anthologies and international literary journal including the prestigious PEN international and many of them were translated into several languages. Sarita translated Rose Ausländer, the leading Austrian poet, from German into Hindi under a scholarship received by The Arts and Culture Division of the Federal Chancellery of Austria. She has also translated contemporary Austrian Poetry into Odia. She received many literary fellowships in Germany and in Austria including those from the prestigious organization of ‘Heinrich Böll Foundation and ‘Künstlerdorf Schöppingen. In 2006, she was awarded the literary prize of Kulturverein Inzing, Austria. She has taken part in various literary festivals both at home and abroad. Sarita, the general secretary of Austrian chapter of PEN international, lives and works in Vienna. She is the co-editor and publisher of the bilingual magazine Words and Worlds.
After this Deluge
After this deluge
I wish to see the dove
saved,
nothing but the dove.
I would drown in this sea
if it did not fly away,
if it did not return with the leaf
in the final hour.
Nach dieser Sintflut
Nach dieser Sintflut
möchte ich die Taube,
und nichts als die Taube
noch einmal gerettet sehn
Ich ginge ja unter in diesem Meer!
flög’ sie nicht aus,
brächte sie nicht
in letzter Stunde das Blatt.
The Deferred Time
Harder days are approaching.
The deferred time
is emerging on the horizon.
Soon you have to lace up your shoes
and drive the hounds back to the marshland farmyards.
For now the guts of fish
have chilled in the wind.
The lupins’ light is burning feebly.
Your gaze traces through the fog:
The deferred time
is emerging on the horizon.
Over there your beloved sinks into the sand;
it rises up to her wavering hair,
it shouts her down,
it orders her to be silent,
it finds her mortal
and ready to leave
after every embrace.
Don’t look around.
Lace up your shoes.
Chase back the hounds.
Throw the fish back into the sea.
Snuff the lupins out!
Harder days are approcaching.
Die gestundete Zeit
Es kommen härtere Tage.
Die auf Widerruf gestundete Zeit
wird sichtbar am Horizont.
Bald mußt du den Schuh schnüren
und die Hunde zurückjagen in die Marschhöfe.
Denn die Eingeweide der Fische
sind kalt geworden im Wind.
Ärmlich brennt das Licht der Lupinen.
Dein Blick spurt im Nebel:
die auf Widerruf gestundete Zeit
wird sichtbar am Horizont.
Drüben versinkt dir die Geliebte im Sand,
er steigt um ihr wehendes Haar,
er fällt ihr ins Wort,
er befiehlt ihr zu schweigen,
er findet sie sterblich
und willig dem Abschied
nach jeder Umarmung.
Sieh dich nicht um.
Schnür deinen Schuh.
Jag die Hunde zurück.
Wirf die Fische ins Meer.
Lösch die Lupinen!
Es kommen härtere Tage.
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