My words are

flames meant to melt the

frozen chalice that is your heart.

In the  white night across the continents

we feel but never touch.

Too sacred for light we set the night on fire

Profane infinity too flawed to alter fate.

While I was  thinking of you a fledgling

fell to earth

swooped up by the wind  on her

passage to life

red head on a bench

während ich an dich dachte

Manchmal fühle ich meine Worte
als lodernde Flamme, die schmilzt
den Kelch deines goldenen Herzens.
Geborgenheit liegt in der Stille, wenn
wir die Kontinente durchqueren.
Wir fühlen uns, doch berühren uns nicht, lassen den Mond
uns verschlingen, setzen die Nacht in Brand, zu heilig fürs Licht.
In deiner Gegenwart bin ich weltlich am heiligen Himmel,
eine Blasphemie aus Fehlern, zu gering, das Schicksal zu ändern.
Während ich an dich dachte, fiel ein junger Vogel
nieder auf die Erde, Wind rettete ihn auf dem
Weg ins Leben.

(Deutsch von Hutschi)

178 thoughts on “while I was thinking of you -während ich an dich dachte

  1. I live in hope these days. So I’m seeing us all as fledglings, falling.
    Then the wind comes, and saves us.

    Yet, this is only 4 lines of 11. The other 7 remain, a stirring prelude to the fall, a plea… nay a prayer for love.
    A resplendent prose, dear Holly
    xoxoxoxoxo
    How wonderful that your words are translated into another language.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Holly, in the middle of the poem us the line “we feel but never touch.” From the earlier one on the “frozen chalice that is your heart,” my takeaway is there is lust but no love that night. The fledgling love never took flight as the wind knocked it to the ground. Keith

    Liked by 3 people

  3. The concept of a profane infinity is too really like the words of W. Eugene Smith “Life: Sacred and Profane” as sacred becomes scarce profane endures. I think I asked before. Is that you flipping your hair?

    Liked by 3 people

  4. HEY!!!
    How about the poem you wrote for the poetry slam 2 years ago? I think it’s perfect! xoxoxo

    I wrote this poem for you.

    I want it to be perfect,

    its verses soft as bunny ears

    and chicklets sweet as candy corn

    beneath the star lit tents.

    Let’s shake our tambourines

    to Resa’s famous Egg Dance

    and float some feathery kisses to Gigi

    For bringing us all here.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. This is gorgeous, Holly! 😀
    ‘flames meant to melt the
    frozen chalice that is your heart.’ Such breathtaking imagery that’s so raw and relatable. ❤

    Liked by 3 people

          1. This Friday, yes! Back to weekly releases on here & set myself the 1st May deadline to publish the next short story collection 😀 Wanted to let people know in advance in case they felt the blurb could be reworded better. ❤

            Liked by 1 person

          2. My dear own guardian angel, ready to bust heads and take names <3🤗 🌷
            Thanks ever so much for always being so supportive. Glad you feel it works well! x

            Liked by 1 person

  6. That shows that language is not as important as its meaning. The main thing is to find the right strain of the word and its place. Excellent 🙏💖
    Das zeigt, dass die Sprache ist nicht so wichtig wie deren Bedeutung. Hauptsache, das richtige Gewicht des Wortes zu finden und deren Platz. Ausgezeichnet 😉🥰🙏

    Liked by 2 people

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