New light

Photo by NO NAME on Pexels.com

He woke up that morning. That one morning in early March. Wide awake. At 4:15. Too early, he thought, stretching his left leg and wiggling his fingers. Another day. The sun was not up yet. Another day. Things to do, places to go. He tried to recall what they were. Too early to look at his calendar. Even the phone was still in sleep mode. Machines wake up at the same time. Each day. Why did he always have these weird ideas. Machines. Digital. Always in this bardo state in the morning, when he could not remember this night’s dream, and the day’s stream was not yet whispering against the rock and reed. Or was it? And he could not hear? A new day. She had made him promise. One day. One day, he would wake up early and go with her. Go and see the sun rise. With her. After so many suns had set – and he kept going west – it was time. It was early enough. And late. A dozen years late. Or later? Maybe … And not too late. Maybe … He touched her shoulder. Gently. She knew. They went up on the roof. Still in pyjamas. The sun rose. They both knew. This was day one. New light. A new day. Not a moment too early. Not too late.


Another writing workshop. The prompt was … Well … New life. What did I hear? Well … The audiologist said I don’t need any aids. Yet … But I should let people know that I have a hard time with some consonants. Like eff. And … I did see some beautiful sunrise pictures earlier today.
I guess it took a writing workshop and some pics … I have not done many texts recently.

Across seven bridges

Bruce bridge in San Diego
Sometimes I would walk the street without remorse
Sometimes wishing back my littl’ rocking horse
Sometimes I don’t find a resting spot
Sometimes I bolt the doors behind me shut
Sometimes I spew fire and sometimes ice
Sometimes I don’t know that I am wise
Sometimes I am tired right at morn
And then I seek solace in a song:

Across seven bridges you shall go
Seven years will come and leave
Seven times you are the ash of grief 
Then once again your light will glow

Sometimes ’t seems the clock of life stands still
Sometimes ’t seems you’re loping in a hamster wheel
Sometimes you are lame on itchy feet
Sometimes you squat quiet on a seat
Sometimes you grab for the golden orb
Sometimes you see your lucky stars send blur
Sometimes you take, when you can endow
Sometimes you hate, who you truly love: 

Across seven bridges you shall go
Seven years will come and leave
Seven times you are the ash of grief
Then once again your light will glow

1978. This song was produced for the radio in East Germany by the rockband Karat, who also toured in West Germany. Most East German bands never had that chance. The West German singer Peter Maffay heard the song at one of their concerts, asked whether he could do a cover version, and made the song even more popular. After the German unification, they performed together. It has been covered by many to this day. The lyrics were written by Helmut Richter. The song has its own Wikipedia entry.

My English translation has gone through a number of versions. I am very grateful to the musician Tillmann Spiegl for his help with making some lines as singeable as the German original.


Karat - Über sieben Brücken musst du gehn (1978) 

Manchmal geh' ich meine Straße ohne Blick, 
manchmal wünsch' ich mir mein Schaukelpferd zurück, 
manchmal bin ich ohne Rast und Ruh, 
manchmal schließ ich alle Türen nach mir zu. 
Manchmal ist mir kalt und manchmal heiß, 
manchmal weiss ich nicht mehr, was ich weiß, 
manchmal bin ich schon am Morgen müd, 
und dann such ich Trost in einem Lied: 

Über sieben Brücken musst du geh'n, 
Sieben dunkle Jahre überstehn, 
Sieben Mal wirst du die Asche sein, 
Aber einmal auch der helle Schein. 

Manchmal scheint die Uhr des Lebens still zu steh'n, 
manchmal scheint man immer nur im Kreis zu geh'n, 
manchmal ist man wie vom Fernweh krank, 
manchmal sitzt man still auf einer Bank. 
Manchmal greift man nach der ganzen Welt, 
manchmal meint man, dass der Glücksstern fällt, 
manchmal nimmt man, wo man lieber gibt, 
manchmal hasst man das, was man doch liebt. 

Über sieben Brücken musst Du geh'n, 
Sieben dunkle Jahre überstehn, 
Sieben Mal wirst du die Asche sein, 
Aber einmal auch der helle Schein. 

If you have the interest, time, and energy to read more of the Just texts you find them in blog order on this website. Please comment on what you associate with them, what you like, what you dislike, what you read in them, how they make you feel …

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