were silent about problems of immeasurable insignificance
("beschwiegen probleme von unermesslicher unbedeutsamkeit" · august 13th 2012)
general comment on the translations:
since some of you regretted not understanding a word of our lyrics — »being that they're in german« — i made an attempt to translate them into english. since i'm not a native english speaker, the results don't share the aesthetic character of the orinial versions even approximate. i almost exclusively concentrated on word-by-word-translations — which was hard enough since we work with plays upon words very much, so i often had to decide which one of many meanings i should translate. at some points i am not quite satisfied with the outcome and wrote an additional comment. if you have any more questions, feel free to contact us. if you send us your interpretaions, you'll get the author's. thank you — m.
if you are looking for the original lyrics, just switch to the german version of this page by clicking the flag symbol in the lower right corner.
original title: "schmetterlings traum"
i thought i had to be real but which fact could prove me? i percieve a rhythmical knocking which escapes here and there while my planet with a speed of 107.000 km/h makes its way i seem to maintain a firm footing... within seconds a tree changes its garment and only because i am thinking i don't know at all if i am now, do i exist? — or does this still lie ahead of me? or did i leave that state already behind me? furious time, which we for our safety presumptuously learned to measure, flyes together with us through our lives... now, do i exist? — or does this still lie ahead of me or did i leave that state already behind me? thoughts like these slink through my brain an i must reject them in all haste so that i can function.
pregnant, over bridges, to the sea
original title: "schwanger, über brücken, bis ans meer"
it'll work out. i'll wait. i'm not doubtful yet. i'm quiet. i endure. i remember. you don't. i'm waiting. it'll be ok. you're asking, what is it? i'm weeping. i still know. you laugh. you forget. i don't.
rm -rf /
let he who is without sense draft the first stone. no one has any intention of building a garden. the world at the bank until the end of the money. in the name of the mother, the daughter and the day before. i didn't have faith in much, you were hardly a believer. spit it out! a dogma needs space. they believed you missed your muzzle. spit it out! a dogma needs room. in all of the shadow of the social noise, protected from the amazement of a dazzling idea, a truth is growing out of fear, that you cannot become true, that you will spot it and leave, that your noise will stitch up its womb. fear of the love of others is the mother of racism. i see charles darwin gaping through the shop window: already mannequins within, still apes without.
comment: if you translated the german original for "spit it out!" literally, it would say "get out (with) the language", but could also be understood as "remove your language". "einen maulkorb verpassen" usually means "to muzzle someone", not "to miss a muzzle", which the context suggests in the way it is used here.
in his name
original title: "in seinem namen"
there you have the images of a god they set colours onto the highest's throne don't look directly into their suns to get you back - they're already waiting there you have the words of a god he attached great importance to good form don't listen to closely to what they say what they have up their sleeves - you already know it is only inspiration vague sketches and contours look for the highest inside of yourself and not inside of images or words »while we are standing, the shadow is falling down. morning sun blueprints the first drawing. to stand in blossom is a deadly business, but we agreed: we live.«
soundlessaying (slaves of love)
original title: "lautlossagen (l'esclave de l'amour)"
i. vow of silence
if i asked you now: "let's speak about being silent", would you smile at me and be silent? no, since you don't understand me. you'd rather ask what that's supposed to be good for, for you would have nothing to say, and that's something different from the kind of silence which i thought about. you don't understand me. let's be silent about something else.
ii. enters she the room
she doesn't speak too much and to understand her is like interpreting a dream tells whole worlds without a word she enlivens the room we passed our time away in silence did not think we were happy but simply were it gauged our senses opened ourselves and were free
"i don't even know for myself who i actually am. whether i am that way the other's say i am, or the way i think for myself i am? no idea. or whether i am like the musik i listen to?"
we withdrew inside ourselves not each on our own but in agreement with each other were silent about problems of immeasurable insignificance in a life where you promise/make a slip of the tongue too often we don't rely on empty words to arise purely in fulfilled silence in fulfilled silence not the one who doesn't speak is dumb but the one who doesn't say anything and so we are ablaze with how nobody could say: »i thought it over...«
"i am infinitely lonesome, but in my loneliness it teems with people. this feeling never left me alone. i don't think about death. many poeple ask me what i want to do when i'm old; i don't waste a single thought about that today."
healing night's evening ballerina candles — roses — wine tells own islands without a movement she's leaving the room is not quite lonesome any more, and who knows? where will she be? who will she be? whom will she be? until the next time.
(followed by a discussion about what comes after death)
comment: well, "lautlossagen" is absolutely untranslatable! it starts with the title, which is by far not the only neologism in it. i wonder if it makes any sense to someone — which is a pity, for this is still one of our favourite compositions, with lyrics like an escher-drawing.