Beiträge vom 16. Dezember 2013

Ein Monat belangloses Geschwätz / Scene Seven

Montag, 16. Dezember 2013 20:09

hippo

(Chilischoten hängen in der brutzelnden Sonne, in Durango verliebt man sich, Papa will, daß seine Töchter die Wäsche von der Leine nehmen, in Brownsville unter einem roten Himmel verkaufen sie Postkarten von den letzten Hinrichtungen und die Nilpferde kochten in ihren Becken, als Bob und Sam und Sam und Bob den Mann im langen schwarzen Mantel um die Ecke huschen sahen. Er hinterließ Worte und Fußstapfen zwischen den Kakteen. Bleibt liegen auf dem alten, großen Eisenbett, ich kann hören, wie sich der Schlüssel im Schloß dreht. Um den Rest kümmere ich mich:

It’s been such a long, long time / Since we loved each other and our hearts were true. / One time, for one brief day, / I was the man for you. / Last night I heard you talking in your sleep / Saying things you shouldn’t say. / Oh baby, / You just might have to go to jail someday. / Is there a place we can go? / Is there anybody we can see? / Maybe, / It’s the same for you as it is for me. / I ain’t seen my family in twenty years / That ain’t easy to understand. / They may be dead by now; / I lost track of them after they lost their land. / Shake it up baby, twist and shout, / You know what it’s all about. / What you doing out there in the sun anyway? / Don’t you know the sun can burn your brains right out? / My enemy crashed into the dust, / Stopped dead in his tracks, and he lost his lust. / He was run down hard, and he broke apart. / He died in shame; he had a iron heart. / I wear dark glasses to cover my eyes. / There are secrets in them that I can’t disguise. / Come back baby, / If I hurt your feelings, i apologize / Two trains running side by side / Forty miles wide, down the eastern line. / You don’t have to go, / I just came to you because you’re a friend of mine. / I think that when my back was turned, / The whole world behind me burned. / It’s been a while / Since we walked down that long, long aisle. / We cried on that cold and frosty morn. / We cried because our souls were torn. / So much for tears, / So much for these long and wasted years.)

„Wollen wir übersetzen?”

„Charon, mein Freund?”

„Dichten wir lieber nach.“

„Wir werden die Worte ernten, in den ungeübten Tatzen wiegen und wägen?“

„Aber wir trauen es uns zu!“

„Sonnenuntergang und gelber Mond! Klar, Mann!“

„Wenn Du Sie siehst, grüße sie von mir!“

Thema: Robert Zimmermann | Kommentare deaktiviert | Autor: Christian Lugerth