<![CDATA[Sonett-Forum - Fremdsprachiges]]>

<![CDATA[Sonett-Forum - Fremdsprachiges]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Fri, 26 Jun 2026 21:47:31 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Symphony in White, No. 3]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=5150 Sat, 30 Nov 2019 02:39:50 +0100 Rohrer]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=5150

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/c...hite_3.jpg

O darling, let me kneel in my distress,
guide me through darkness, otherwise in light
my hopes will soon be sunken in tristesse,
just where my lovely mistress lies in white.

You are my all where once has been a lack
But now it seems I spent my powers in vain
take my sweet longing hand, don’t lean aback
You are my all that god devours in pain

You were my angel once in shine; in fade
your white lies leave me all alone, you took
my hope that loving never dies and round

your floating body, woven fine in shade,
there is this darkness in the tone you look
how many girls looked in your eyes and drowned.]]>

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/c...hite_3.jpg

O darling, let me kneel in my distress,
guide me through darkness, otherwise in light
my hopes will soon be sunken in tristesse,
just where my lovely mistress lies in white.

You are my all where once has been a lack
But now it seems I spent my powers in vain
take my sweet longing hand, don’t lean aback
You are my all that god devours in pain

You were my angel once in shine; in fade
your white lies leave me all alone, you took
my hope that loving never dies and round

your floating body, woven fine in shade,
there is this darkness in the tone you look
how many girls looked in your eyes and drowned.]]> <![CDATA[What is love]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=4891 Fri, 22 Mar 2019 01:42:53 +0100 Rohrer]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=4891 my answer was, dear friend, why should we care,
why should we care what god above allowed,
your heart and mind will know it: could we share

intimacy when our moment’s right,
or will we, as before, just stand alone,
and our short & shabby romance might
just end up as a wasted land, a stone,

a stone on our endless way, a style
of having sex or more behind the feeling,
this feeling that your heart exploded, can

you feel it, can you maybe stay a while?
A while with me, a while to find the healing:
all life on earth has an encoded plan.

----
PS. sagt mal: ist "sonnet central" eigentlich so tot wie es scheint? Hat das Interesse so abgenommen seit etwa 2012 - ? Ich würde mich ja gern auch auf Englisch weiter entwickeln... Nächtliche Grüße,
[/i]David]]> my answer was, dear friend, why should we care,
why should we care what god above allowed,
your heart and mind will know it: could we share

intimacy when our moment’s right,
or will we, as before, just stand alone,
and our short & shabby romance might
just end up as a wasted land, a stone,

a stone on our endless way, a style
of having sex or more behind the feeling,
this feeling that your heart exploded, can

you feel it, can you maybe stay a while?
A while with me, a while to find the healing:
all life on earth has an encoded plan.

----
PS. sagt mal: ist "sonnet central" eigentlich so tot wie es scheint? Hat das Interesse so abgenommen seit etwa 2012 - ? Ich würde mich ja gern auch auf Englisch weiter entwickeln... Nächtliche Grüße,
[/i]David]]> <![CDATA[Marathon]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2595 Mon, 02 Jul 2012 08:37:27 +0200 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2595 who wage their wars with daily whisperings,
you grab your toes, but never bend your knees
you punch and pound, and every fibre sings.

You jog into the sun but she sinks faster
and costs rise daily while the days grow few.
You raise the stakes but cannot bluff the master,
He knows as well that death is nothing new.

Now he is pacing you where once his reign
Had longer reins, you a far softer touch
with your own flesh. But nowadays the gain
is marginal and earned with pain as such.

You are not going to outrun your fate
And still you run. It’s better than to wait.]]> who wage their wars with daily whisperings,
you grab your toes, but never bend your knees
you punch and pound, and every fibre sings.

You jog into the sun but she sinks faster
and costs rise daily while the days grow few.
You raise the stakes but cannot bluff the master,
He knows as well that death is nothing new.

Now he is pacing you where once his reign
Had longer reins, you a far softer touch
with your own flesh. But nowadays the gain
is marginal and earned with pain as such.

You are not going to outrun your fate
And still you run. It’s better than to wait.]]> <![CDATA[Lullaby]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2338 Mon, 05 Sep 2011 12:28:06 +0200 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2338 in your days a day will come,
when your heart will stop to stir,
like a torn and tattered drum.

Life was never meant to last,
all the lays of ancient lore:
pebbles of a perished past,
shattered shells of nevermore.

Dream your dream, the world remembers,
nothing helps and ever will,
when your flame dies down to embers,
while the shadows stoop to kill.

No warm winds will bear you west,
Hell like Heaven is a jest.]]> in your days a day will come,
when your heart will stop to stir,
like a torn and tattered drum.

Life was never meant to last,
all the lays of ancient lore:
pebbles of a perished past,
shattered shells of nevermore.

Dream your dream, the world remembers,
nothing helps and ever will,
when your flame dies down to embers,
while the shadows stoop to kill.

No warm winds will bear you west,
Hell like Heaven is a jest.]]> <![CDATA[Lure Of The Sea]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2162 Thu, 03 Feb 2011 11:42:47 +0100 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2162 a crimson moon is pulling at the tide
to wake the longboats, they sway side by side
awaiting us, to harvest unsown yield.
No father left us any fertile field,
no mother acted as a caring guide,
when tossed into the sea we learned to ride
all waves in any weather, how to wield

oars and axes, how to dance with death.
Spring came to coasts that groaned while calvng ice
as hunger gnawed us seven months of night.
But now the wind feels like a maidens breath
upon my skin and I will pay her price
if I return from wind and waves and light.]]> a crimson moon is pulling at the tide
to wake the longboats, they sway side by side
awaiting us, to harvest unsown yield.
No father left us any fertile field,
no mother acted as a caring guide,
when tossed into the sea we learned to ride
all waves in any weather, how to wield

oars and axes, how to dance with death.
Spring came to coasts that groaned while calvng ice
as hunger gnawed us seven months of night.
But now the wind feels like a maidens breath
upon my skin and I will pay her price
if I return from wind and waves and light.]]> <![CDATA[The Spirit of the Present]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2033 Sat, 02 Oct 2010 05:55:39 +0200 Santor]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=2033

The Spirit of the Present

In troubled times my eyes rush through the past
to dwell upon the sallow faces, where
I grub up dust encrusted, doctrinaire,
sophistic souls who did, at least, not last.

And then my mind is flooding more than fast
the future universe, and everywhere
are feeble hopes and dreams mixed with despair,
where shall I rest, where should my die be cast?

Afraid and angry am I, question stricken.
Is somewhere in this chaos cosmic bliss?
Those faces burn but pictures in my mind.

Who gives me Joy and helps my marrow quicken
the spark of happiness I dearly miss?
You, spirit of the present, are thus kind.

Der Geist der Gegenwart

In trüben Zeiten eilt mein Blick zurück
um dort bei fahlen Fratzen zu verweilen,
bei Staub verkrustet Seelen, die nicht heilen,
sophistisch, ohne Dauer, ohne Glück.

Dann wieder schreit mein Geist voran: ich pflück‘
in Zukunftsuniversen leere Zeilen,
und traumgemischt Verzweiflung stummer Meilen.
Wo find ich Stille, die ich an mich drück‘?

Vom Fragenschwarm verrückt will ich erkennen,
ob irgendwo im Chaos Frieden schimmert.
Dass mehr als nur ein Schein von Bildern bliebe!

Wer hilft mir, diesen Funken anzubrennen,
der hoffend, zeitlos harrend, in mir simmert?
Du, Geist der Gegenwart, hast diese Liebe.]]>

The Spirit of the Present

In troubled times my eyes rush through the past
to dwell upon the sallow faces, where
I grub up dust encrusted, doctrinaire,
sophistic souls who did, at least, not last.

And then my mind is flooding more than fast
the future universe, and everywhere
are feeble hopes and dreams mixed with despair,
where shall I rest, where should my die be cast?

Afraid and angry am I, question stricken.
Is somewhere in this chaos cosmic bliss?
Those faces burn but pictures in my mind.

Who gives me Joy and helps my marrow quicken
the spark of happiness I dearly miss?
You, spirit of the present, are thus kind.

Der Geist der Gegenwart

In trüben Zeiten eilt mein Blick zurück
um dort bei fahlen Fratzen zu verweilen,
bei Staub verkrustet Seelen, die nicht heilen,
sophistisch, ohne Dauer, ohne Glück.

Dann wieder schreit mein Geist voran: ich pflück‘
in Zukunftsuniversen leere Zeilen,
und traumgemischt Verzweiflung stummer Meilen.
Wo find ich Stille, die ich an mich drück‘?

Vom Fragenschwarm verrückt will ich erkennen,
ob irgendwo im Chaos Frieden schimmert.
Dass mehr als nur ein Schein von Bildern bliebe!

Wer hilft mir, diesen Funken anzubrennen,
der hoffend, zeitlos harrend, in mir simmert?
Du, Geist der Gegenwart, hast diese Liebe.]]> <![CDATA[And were I but a dot]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1943 Fri, 30 Jul 2010 04:35:32 +0200 Santor]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1943 ich darf mich kurz vorstellen: ich schreibe seit ca. 30 Jahren Gedichte, wobei mir immer wieder auch ein Sonett passiert. Es ist schön zu sehen, dass hier eine community existiert, die sich dieser Form annimmt!
Nun hat es sich ergeben, dass ich in ganz anderem Zusammenhang auch englische Texte verfassen kann/darf und ich möchte daher in nächster Zukunft auch Sonette in englischer Sprache schreiben (bzw. eventuell einige meiner deutschsprachigen übersetzen). Da ich allerdings nicht wirklich firm bin in dieser Sprache, würde ich mich sehr über Rückmeldungen freuen!

Andreas

Und hier gleich mein erstes "Werk"

And were I but a dot

You are away. The hour has lost it’s pace.
and teary trices trickle through my skin.
Wherever turns my gaze to: dreary space,
a drop with neither ending nor begin.

You should be here, you promised me! My vice
is just: my trust, my hope, my heartsbeat’s chime!
And were I but a dot it would suffice:
You are, beloved, my very space and time.

But then I see you coming from afar,
a brand new spark within begins to shine
and nearer still you come and there you are:
There is no brighter joy than to divine

the huge new universe, that will arise,
the minute moment you look in my eyes.]]> <![CDATA[soccer]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1906 Sun, 27 Jun 2010 20:04:06 +0200 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1906
Dream on, remain in never-neverlands,
we'll teach you yet what's what in playing ball,
you'll learn that pride go-eth before the fall,
will see a close-up of the southern sands.
That said, lets stop the fencing and shake hands:
Good luck to Miro, Badstuber and all,
who'll earn their entry into Odins hall,
La Ola accolades from all the stands.

Lets kick the hooligan, the saucy cheek
out of the stadium and enjoy a game
of goals, of strength, of skill and seek
to give true meaning, spirit to the name
of Fan. So, Madam, please, retract your claws:
And may the best team win. I rest my cause.]]>
Dream on, remain in never-neverlands,
we'll teach you yet what's what in playing ball,
you'll learn that pride go-eth before the fall,
will see a close-up of the southern sands.
That said, lets stop the fencing and shake hands:
Good luck to Miro, Badstuber and all,
who'll earn their entry into Odins hall,
La Ola accolades from all the stands.

Lets kick the hooligan, the saucy cheek
out of the stadium and enjoy a game
of goals, of strength, of skill and seek
to give true meaning, spirit to the name
of Fan. So, Madam, please, retract your claws:
And may the best team win. I rest my cause.]]> <![CDATA[Pele's breath]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1864 Tue, 20 Apr 2010 13:56:56 +0200 Friedrich]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1864 Revised version #3

Pele’s breath

Dedicated to Tanja & Brendan

The goddess’ breath is swaying gently up
and down all of our most audacious dreams,
her chant amidst azure and white, it seems,
belongs to us. With heat she fills the cup

we found this morning on our endless beach,
a stranded, single conch, in color red,
as strange, as fragile, from the ocean spread,
her sister’s precious gift within our reach

at any moment, drinking to the full
each other’s life - and kiss by kiss we sink
already deeper into minds we link
together, burning maelstroms, curls that pull

us to the bottom of our souls, she dips
in with her staff - and aeons touch our lips...

© Friedrich

Pele (D), Pele (E)
Arthur Johnson's famous oil painting of Pele (at the Kilauea Visitors’ Center)
and some other paintings of the fire goddess from Herb Kawainui Kane

Original

Pele's breath

The goddess’ breath is swaying gently up
and down lots of our most audacious dreams,
her chant amidst azure and white, it seems,
belong to us. With heat she fills the cup

we’ve found this morn here on our endless beach,
a stranded, single conch, in color red,
bizarre as fragile, from the ocean spread,
her sister’s unique gift for that we reach

just in this moment drinking to the full
each other’s life - and kiss by kiss we sink
already deep and deeper with her wink,
deep into burning maelstroms, curls that pull

us to her bottom of our soul, she dips
in with her stick - and aeons touch our lips ...

© Friedrich]]> Revised version #3

Pele’s breath

Dedicated to Tanja & Brendan

The goddess’ breath is swaying gently up
and down all of our most audacious dreams,
her chant amidst azure and white, it seems,
belongs to us. With heat she fills the cup

we found this morning on our endless beach,
a stranded, single conch, in color red,
as strange, as fragile, from the ocean spread,
her sister’s precious gift within our reach

at any moment, drinking to the full
each other’s life - and kiss by kiss we sink
already deeper into minds we link
together, burning maelstroms, curls that pull

us to the bottom of our souls, she dips
in with her staff - and aeons touch our lips...

© Friedrich

Pele (D), Pele (E)
Arthur Johnson's famous oil painting of Pele (at the Kilauea Visitors’ Center)
and some other paintings of the fire goddess from Herb Kawainui Kane

Original

Pele's breath

The goddess’ breath is swaying gently up
and down lots of our most audacious dreams,
her chant amidst azure and white, it seems,
belong to us. With heat she fills the cup

we’ve found this morn here on our endless beach,
a stranded, single conch, in color red,
bizarre as fragile, from the ocean spread,
her sister’s unique gift for that we reach

just in this moment drinking to the full
each other’s life - and kiss by kiss we sink
already deep and deeper with her wink,
deep into burning maelstroms, curls that pull

us to her bottom of our soul, she dips
in with her stick - and aeons touch our lips ...

© Friedrich]]> <![CDATA[X-Mas]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1330 Fri, 12 Dec 2008 10:42:31 +0100 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1330 but somewhat premature, this pristine gown
will change it`s crystal-bright to dirty brown
as candles will burn down, despite their glow.
White Christmas is a television show
which we consume with just a tiny frown,
`cause once we knew, that Santa was no clown
and X-mas more than just unwrap and throw.

Still, there are moments to enjoy this night,
a candle on the sill for absent friends,
to know: rejuvenation of the light
has come again to all and it extends
its rays around the world for black and white
if we help it along, if friends stay friends.]]> but somewhat premature, this pristine gown
will change it`s crystal-bright to dirty brown
as candles will burn down, despite their glow.
White Christmas is a television show
which we consume with just a tiny frown,
`cause once we knew, that Santa was no clown
and X-mas more than just unwrap and throw.

Still, there are moments to enjoy this night,
a candle on the sill for absent friends,
to know: rejuvenation of the light
has come again to all and it extends
its rays around the world for black and white
if we help it along, if friends stay friends.]]> <![CDATA[Selbstverfastes Sonette]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1295 Thu, 20 Nov 2008 21:25:43 +0100 Vitja]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=1295
weak GreatBritain

Britain! Oh Britain! You traditional mother,
Searching your family which cover.
Sharing your goodies like noone other.
Sadly trying to re-obtain your dead power.

deceived by America and europe.
Twice you knocked at friends door
but Goulle didn't hand you the rope
by joining EEC you lost your spoor...

deep isolated from the community.
last chance is force, but unsecure,
desquamated like a raven by society.
patheticly beggin' for human exposure.

Greedy biting for more and more,
please don't end up as a whore...

Es ist etwas hart und vieleicht schwer verständlich ohne dne text gelesen zuhaben, aber ich ahbe gelesen man muss in Sonetten weltliche Leidenschaft utnerdrücken soll.]]>
weak GreatBritain

Britain! Oh Britain! You traditional mother,
Searching your family which cover.
Sharing your goodies like noone other.
Sadly trying to re-obtain your dead power.

deceived by America and europe.
Twice you knocked at friends door
but Goulle didn't hand you the rope
by joining EEC you lost your spoor...

deep isolated from the community.
last chance is force, but unsecure,
desquamated like a raven by society.
patheticly beggin' for human exposure.

Greedy biting for more and more,
please don't end up as a whore...

Es ist etwas hart und vieleicht schwer verständlich ohne dne text gelesen zuhaben, aber ich ahbe gelesen man muss in Sonetten weltliche Leidenschaft utnerdrücken soll.]]> <![CDATA[Bass Ackwards]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=958 Fri, 25 Apr 2008 14:42:13 +0200 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=958 can tempt us to sneak up to Thees and Thous.
Done skillfully just monkish prudes will blame
your poem - guys with highfaluting vows.
But if you get a double dose of douse
just treble your artistic toil and tear
a bucketful of critics does but rouse
the true and dedicated sonneteer.
And if some say “I don`t like pickled pear,
if there is fresh fruit right before my nose”,
there will be others who will give a cheer
for sonnets with doublets and garter-hose.

And these last words shall the rede fulfill:
Write what you like, with the best of your skill.]]> can tempt us to sneak up to Thees and Thous.
Done skillfully just monkish prudes will blame
your poem - guys with highfaluting vows.
But if you get a double dose of douse
just treble your artistic toil and tear
a bucketful of critics does but rouse
the true and dedicated sonneteer.
And if some say “I don`t like pickled pear,
if there is fresh fruit right before my nose”,
there will be others who will give a cheer
for sonnets with doublets and garter-hose.

And these last words shall the rede fulfill:
Write what you like, with the best of your skill.]]> <![CDATA[Desecration]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=936 Sat, 05 Apr 2008 21:02:00 +0200 renerpho]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=936 Uncork the box. Soon flees the swarm of flies.
Now blindly dreaming. “She arouses yawning?”
I ask, may help, and kiss the crowd of ties.

I must take care her cave is closed next morning.
Her body lacks, she’s wounded and she dies.
Her bones take in desire the next pawning.
The bugging voice keeps silent in the skies.

The young girls head erects. She hears me fawning.
Releasing her’s so hard. The blackbird cries.
It knows that out of her a star’s aborning.
I’m different, I cling to these my lies.

I have a look, at last, some quiet adorning,
While sun emerges, and I watch her rise.]]> Uncork the box. Soon flees the swarm of flies.
Now blindly dreaming. “She arouses yawning?”
I ask, may help, and kiss the crowd of ties.

I must take care her cave is closed next morning.
Her body lacks, she’s wounded and she dies.
Her bones take in desire the next pawning.
The bugging voice keeps silent in the skies.

The young girls head erects. She hears me fawning.
Releasing her’s so hard. The blackbird cries.
It knows that out of her a star’s aborning.
I’m different, I cling to these my lies.

I have a look, at last, some quiet adorning,
While sun emerges, and I watch her rise.]]> <![CDATA[Religious war]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=927 Thu, 03 Apr 2008 22:50:30 +0200 renerpho]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=927 Egyptian slaves were partial to your Adam.
But He has dragged them all across macadam, –
Their heads ahead and crucified headfirst!”

That’s how they howled about their ancestors
Who have been damned by an O Lovely Father.
“So you should ken that all of you crooned blather
By praising Him and showering with honors!

Not just that you proclaimed His tendernesses
Marks schizophrenic parts of your belief.
It’s what we’ll tell our gods when giving brief
To Them and what reminds us of abscesses.”

Did you forget the crimes that have been done,
So long ago? They are not yet bygone.]]> Egyptian slaves were partial to your Adam.
But He has dragged them all across macadam, –
Their heads ahead and crucified headfirst!”

That’s how they howled about their ancestors
Who have been damned by an O Lovely Father.
“So you should ken that all of you crooned blather
By praising Him and showering with honors!

Not just that you proclaimed His tendernesses
Marks schizophrenic parts of your belief.
It’s what we’ll tell our gods when giving brief
To Them and what reminds us of abscesses.”

Did you forget the crimes that have been done,
So long ago? They are not yet bygone.]]> <![CDATA[Halloween-Party]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=795 Tue, 04 Dec 2007 21:01:07 +0100 Sneaky]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=795 my Jack-of-all-the-Trades mask, - twisted grin -
check grass, check matches, ciao to kith and kin.
Black trousers, lace shirt, dotted I, crossed t,

I greet my host and hostess civilly,
then mingle, search for bar and loo and bin
and quiet corners for all kinds of sin.
It`s party-time. For them, for us, for me?

It feels poe-esque, this game of twilight zone
and as I`m black and white I twist like smoke,
don`t start no hassle, never stand alone.

The mask is simple, needs nothing en vogue,
just paint that hides and highlights skin and bone.
My face plays all the shades. From saint to rogue.]]> my Jack-of-all-the-Trades mask, - twisted grin -
check grass, check matches, ciao to kith and kin.
Black trousers, lace shirt, dotted I, crossed t,

I greet my host and hostess civilly,
then mingle, search for bar and loo and bin
and quiet corners for all kinds of sin.
It`s party-time. For them, for us, for me?

It feels poe-esque, this game of twilight zone
and as I`m black and white I twist like smoke,
don`t start no hassle, never stand alone.

The mask is simple, needs nothing en vogue,
just paint that hides and highlights skin and bone.
My face plays all the shades. From saint to rogue.]]>