Mari Lorensin, „Autoportret“, 1904.
LISEL MUELLER: WHEN I AM ASKED
When I am asked
how I began writing poems,
I talk about indifference of nature.
It was soon after my mnother died,
a brilliant June day, everything blooming.
I sat on a gray stone bench
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the daylilies were as deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers,
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black or broken
and not a leaf fell,
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the daylilies were as deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers,
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black or broken
and not a leaf fell,
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.
