Till Lindemann's 'Messer' - 'Für Conrad Ferdinand Meyer'

One poet mourns another's loss. A tribute to Conrad Ferdinand Meyer, Swiss poet, (1825-1898).

[Updated 16th Dec 2012]

(Poem no. 50 out of 54, located pg. 130 of ‘Messer’, 2010 print.)

Disclaimer: Poem copyrighted to Till Lindemann. This post does not include photos/illustrations of said poem from 'Messer'. The original German text is also not included. This is only a interpretive translation and accuracy is not guaranteed.



For Conrad Ferdinand Meyer

Trembling, I read the poem
The poet is dead
I cry out his name
And drip my tears onto his face

It is too precious for paper
What it caught stands its yellowed ground
I drive the water out of the bones
A manifest of desire

I would love to be embedded in his shadow
Eavesdrop on his every word
Free him and let him be undead
And save my own soul

The poet is dead - yet
I read every single line
Driving every glowing wedge of a word
And framing it within my soul

Ah, the muse has betrayed me!
How would one catch those words?
I’d have traveled through all the heavens
And would have suspended the Sun

Original Meter: I don’t believe that there is one. Not one meter is consistent.

Original Rhyme Scheme: There is one, but it’s quite complicated. If I had to put it into an AB rhyme scheme it would go like this: ABCA DEFD GHIG JKLL MNON.

• In the first three stanzas (all of four lines each) only the first and last lines rhyme
• In the fourth stanza the last two lines rhyme
• In the last stanza the second and fourth lines rhyme.

Comments: When I first tried this poem I had two italicized lines - one on the second and fourth stanzas. I figured out that ‘gilbem’ is quite likely ‘yellowed’ in that context, and decided that the fourth stanza was fine. A few little tweaks, and here we are.
I did manage to get hold of some of Meyer’s poems. He’s an immensely lyrical poet - there are very songlike qualities to them, especially within the descriptions that he uses. (‘Roman Fountain’ comes to mind.) They explain the lyrical qualities of Till’s poems, perhaps - but less so in the subject matter. Which doesn’t surprise me.