(".eins." · spring 1996)
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.
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a song for all the pain you give me today i hoped by far enough for your thinking of me - in vain i don't want a rotting excuse - just to let you know i trusted you - if you know what that means. your pity is touching, isn't it your grace is so infinite "well, it will be better for the both of us..." how beneficent consoling... the tiny little something which is left of me can just write this small song and keeps decaying a song for all the others i was decieved by are there no angels anymore dreaming of princes? a song for all the silent ones i could use an advice of i can't wait any longer, your time limit has expired the great hope i just keep on tugging myself through all the empty people and then i find you sometime and then it will all be worth while get out of the way get out of the light don't bar your hearts don't bar my sight let me see her and she colour my bleak eyes, kiss me from inside and let die the most of inside of me - then i'll be pure, then i'll be pure, then i'll be pure...
comment: a very old one... category "lyrics we once were glad about but wouldn't write again".
since you're gone my heart is freezing and i'm dreaming in black and white without sound since you're gone i'm growing old i can't even cry — but so what... since you're gone i'm getting cold and i don't feel any sunbeam since you're gone i am afraid you might pretend nothing happened... i feel as if i'm losing something — every day a little bit. i feel as if i'm losing you — and nothing is left... send me long letters! just call me! and any time you think of me light some candles... you don't even send a postcard. you never call me, too. you've already forgotten about me... i'm sorry... i trusted you... i feel as if i've lost you — every day a little bit. i feel as i i'm losing all the time - why always me?!?
comment: well, you know... the early years...
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.