julius dreyfsandt zu schlamm - Prosatexts in different languages 
								 
							 
						
 
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					22-06-2024  
				 
				
					 Нарастающее хотение 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
Именно в то время, 
когда Земля вопрошающе воздевает руки к небу 
и преисполнена терпением, 
наступает пора ожидания. 
 
Делается первый шаг 
на пути более светлого часа. 
Или, скорее всего, это выражается 
словами надежды и плодотворной мечты. 
 
Недолгим было напряжение 
избавителей 
от мрачных чувств, 
свойственных человеку 
в это время года. 
 
Когда свет всё ещё уступает темноте долгой ночи 
и моя душа уже жаждет перемен. 
В конце концов, ритм природы - 
его никакой силой не остановишь. 
 
- 
Wilbert Heisterkamp 
Tolk-Vertaler Russisch 
Переводчик, русский и нидерландский языки 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:29 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 -Proza po polsku- . miniatura 1 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
po  prostu tam siedzieliśmy,  
czując bez dotykania 
i patrzyliśmy na niewypowiedziane 
 
ale wszystko nas znieczuliło 
zaślepieni byliśmy połączeni 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:27 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 и Бог ми говори 
				 
				
					
					
					
Юлиус, какво правиш? 
Всички тези думи се въртят в стиховете ти. 
Все още ли се чувстваш присъстващ 
в земния живот? 
 
Ах, Господи, 
Какво лошо има в това да възкликнеш спонтанно 
И да се радваш в изобилие? 
Позволете ми да не чакам 
за обречена смърт 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:26 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 -Proza po polsku- . miniatura 2 
				 
				
					
					
					
tylko dźwięk duszy 
poruszały wszystkie nasze serca 
 
ale kiedy światło mogło dostroić się 
do tu i teraz 
 
lód pękł po dźwiękach 
wspólnego smutku 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:25 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Mein Vater 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
Mein Vater beobachtet mich 
eine Mischung aus Distanz 
und Nähe in seinen Augen 
ich kann ihn immer noch spüren 
jetzt tief in mir geweiht 
 
Sein Körper war schwer 
und seine Seele poliert von den Jahren 
kannst du seinen Weg so erklären? 
 
Die Zeit erzählt seine Geschichte 
ich gebe jetzt seiner Stimme 
in mir einen Klang des Dankes 
um das Herz endlich zu tränken, 
ja, was nun klarer Wein scheint 
 
Süß war sein Schweigen 
noch süßer waren seine Worte 
groß bleibt seine Macht 
 
Er gab mir Einsicht 
-seine Weisheit leitet mich 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:24 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Prosperity 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
through the rigidified mind 
and therefore usually does not know 
where he is or has been 
 
Misses also the feeling 
of a supporting earth 
but do not be afraid 
hisses my streamer tough and cool 
i am like the average man: 
an all-wasting beast 
with a dwindling value 
 
My heart and head rest ever more on stiff stilts 
and by now faded to pine 
but through time have the lungs, 
to chase my soul away, 
increasingly begged oxygen 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:23 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 From the back to the other side of life 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
There are several times in your life's journey 
that  which is in rest is suddenly dismantled  
often it is one or more infections of the soul 
that have not been considered or mourned before 
 
More often this is a matter of mind and nature. 
and character, not to mention behaviour patterns 
that are at the root of the past very far back 
and forcefully asserts itself as the supreme authority. 
 
Than in the middle of life's journey, the chain breaks. 
and the feelings are stronger than the rational thoughts 
it all comes out or comes together, as if in a heap 
the heart seems to want to bow down 
before all the suffering on earth. 
 
It is then that one has the duty of listening to oneself 
or to go in search of who you really are 
what are your talents and what nourishment is waiting for me? 
on earth, in yourself or under the whole dome. 
 
I know: I am talking about one or more marathons, 
that you will have to run on your own or with others 
but there is survival in the earthly creation 
 
Light will tell more about this in the future. 
these experiences are enlightening, they are stimulating. 
for the rest of your life 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:21 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Prosa-Epos "Julius" 
				 
				
					
					
					
Wenn  man die Zeit zurückdreht  
bin ich am Anfang meines Lebens 
heute Morgen nach dem Erwachen 
wurde ich aus dem Nest gestoßen 
ich hatte die Gabe der Vorahnung 
fast augenblicklich entstand ein Gedicht 
in ihm war die Zukunft eilig gewachsen 
 
Ich schrieb. Ich schreibe noch immer, 
es beginnt einem epischen Roman zu gleichen 
 
Ich bin gut im Beschreiben der Charaktere 
denn ich trage sie in meinen sehenden Augen. 
der Held der Geschichte bin ich 
und ich sehe mich selbst, wie ich alle möglichen Streiche spiele 
 
Manchmal brüllend in einem dunklen Gewölbe 
wo ich beinahe sterbe oder ersticke 
dann liege ich wieder seufzend in einem Himmelbett 
wo ich kurz, aber bestimmt meinen Teddybär abschlecke. 
 
Im letzten Kapitel enden zwei Menschen 
der eine sagt, es gibt Arbeit zu tun, 
Vater, das ist sein Name 
 
Ja, es ist meine Absicht 
dass ich einen jungen Sprössling in die Welt setze 
spricht die Frau, meine Mutter 
 
es wird dunkle noch weiter zurück in der Zeit. 
es ist, als schaute ich durch ein zerbrochenes Fenster 
und schaue hinaus. Ich bin in Schweiß gebadet. 
und plötzlich sehe ich den Schöpfer. Er ist mein Beschützer. 
 
Hat Er meine Eltern eingeladen? 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:20 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 About bread 
				 
				
					
					
					
The words are there before 
 where earthly food usually goes 
the mind and emotions intrude 
here a struggle is needed to learn wisdom 
what kind of saliva then turns the knob? 
 
It must be said that it has a personal control 
sometimes the grain takes the lead 
while the soul chooses its time 
 
The art of balance is required 
between these fields of tension; 
to go back and forth with the other 
 
The balanced listening is possible 
when we honour the respect 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:19 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Di fatto 
				 
				
					
					
					
Nella desolazione vivente 
non estraneo alla nostra esistenza 
allo stesso modo, la vecchiaia cresce 
su strade che non sono più 
secondo i percorsi originari 
 
Abbozzo un'immagine d'ombra 
che sminuisce il quotidiano 
anche qui è il tempo sconosciuto 
che guarisce su una macchia che rimane 
ma su cui la pioggia perde tristezza 
 
Descrivo con frasi esterne 
ciò che in grandezza è invisibile; 
l'intangibile è quindi dentro, 
incommensurabile perché l'altro è la mancanza 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:18 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Verweilen 
				 
				
					
					
					
.
Wenn ich so durch die Nacht wandere 
und  mich ein wenig umschaue  
fühle ich das Licht vor und hinter mir 
 
Das atmet, das mich trägt 
das mich klar sehen läßt 
aber auch die Schwere 
vor der der Mensch fast zurückweicht 
 
Ich wünschte so sehr... ich könnte selbst schweigen. 
um dich frei zu machen von der stillen Last, die dich quält 
die das Herz kalt macht und die Sonne im Leid 
 
Ich schenke dich mein Lächeln durch den Nebel 
meine Seele fühlt mit dir 
es knüpft die Bande wie bei den Freunden 
zu einem geschützten Land wo lieben wachsen kann. 
 
Blumen, die zur Jahreszeit gehören 
pflücke ich mit dir 
es wird die Zeit kommen: 
wenn der Morgen erwacht 
 
Und ich werde dich auf den Schultern tragen 
damit ich den Schritt zu neuen Ufern 
wagen konnte, zärtlich und in aller Ruhe 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:17 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Sprache der Schatten 
				 
				
					
					
					
Der Tag danach ist die Melancholie 
des  Überflusses, wenn die Gefühle erschöpft sind  
in der Vielfalt der Nuancen 
 
Die Seele scheint veredelt durch die Gelegenheiten 
der Worte, die jetzt im Geist 
oder in einem einzigen Herzen ruhen 
und mit oft geschlossenen Augen 
 
Am nächsten Tag schreit man in die Leere 
einer Wüste verblasster Herrlichkeit 
 
Während noch etwas Schokolade im Blut schwimmt 
die jetzt rein und manchmal unwillkürlich bitter schmeckt 
bis die Gegenwart sich wieder mit dem Morgen verbindet 
und Hoffnung auf Erwartung trifft 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:16 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Talking to myself 
				 
				
					
					
					
When I write in this way, 
i am talking about the void. 
i fill it with thoughts on paper 
waiting for fulfilment 
 
In the imposed afternoon silence, 
like yesterday 
it feels plainly poor in the growing chill 
 
It enters as you take in my words 
you hear them in the sound that spreads. 
 
Does it close the gap? Or do I take you deeper? 
are you tempted from the present? 
 
I say this because it comes 
so from the rigidity of the moment 
rich in feeling, 
yet difficult to express 
 
This poet is not always able 
to realise his task 
sitting behind a frosted window 
 
This little death I never get used to 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:14 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Old news 
				 
				
					
					
					
Where is happiness when it rains outside 
and the light falls like sadness beyond parting 
 
Do  you then speak of a face that yields to the weight  
of the grey air that sighs with reason 
or of being carried away by the fate? 
 
Could it be that it is just this moment that is cut off 
and added to all that perishes anyway 
and that you are only dwelling on the past 
and the new tomorrow already feels like a timeless abandonment? 
 
Yet I go on. I take a one-way trip 
into a silent city or a charred forest 
stripped of the Christianised kyrieleis 
 
In dying to life we get rid of everything. 
waiting can perhaps be soothing or can lead to insight. 
one can even, slowly or suddenly, become entangled in the now. 
 
Often then other thoughts come, slowly tearing down walls. 
but for the moment it floats in unattainable thin air. 
 
* 
Where happiness dwells as winter reigns. 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:11 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Night Train 
				 
				
					
					
					
I spread out my hands like barriers in front of my eyes 
I see little light. My fingers are like rays 
restricting my vision 
 
I  divide the world even more than before  
and see even less from outside: 
caged 
Directionless thoughts roam like predators, hungry for food 
inside my brain 
It's as if I have no reason at all, as if I were a dark night train that can't be stopped. 
 
This is not the way of life I have in mind 
That's what I hope for on this dark day. 
 
Yes, I know it's an escape 
but I think it will be bearable for a while 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:08 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Dying in daylight 
				 
				
					
					
					
I have reached out my hand 
so many times in moments of being 
Each time in the dying of the day 
I  meet the death of your youth  
Your fingers will never be able to touch me 
they are already snapped, beyond repair 
Your soul darkened by black visions 
and you no longer feel me 
Everything I want to share perishes as if by anticipation  
along screaming throats of despair and betrayal 
Would you rather live in the sight of shadow light 
I let you go anyway 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:07 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 Frozen tears 
				 
				
					
					
					
There are those moments when an old feeling separates itself from my new spring - like old sucking roots, 
so sparse, so unfeeling, so cool 
a misunderstood negative, how the soul was torn apart, painted in grey and black and white 
 
 Never again will this memory be a loving memory 
Nor will this memory ever be the colour of a summer bouquet 
 
Not even if it is carried by the highest good of indispensable people. 
The recurrent sprout of sudden loneliness has nothing to wish for 
The pain can only be eased if one has once again experienced how the feeling was once raped. 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:05 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 I would have liked to be a rose 
				 
				
					
					
					
When life overtakes me through the pain of dying, 
when my joy is rare 
 
When  expectation and hope  
Give way to that which is out of reach 
No longer knowing what to do, I stand so alone, 
my heart turns to stone 
 
I would have so longed for others to flourish through me, 
more than has been given to me 
In a garden of roses glowing in the sun 
 
But it was not to be 
The end turned against me more and more 
Sometimes you could say 
I succumbed to death 
 
  
					 22-06-2024 om 11:04 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 The anticipation 
				 
				
					
					
					
My window is hidden behind the soft shades of green 
of the forest and the trees 
I can already feel what will come 
 
Of  autumn colours I dream of muted scents that gradually announce that summer is growing old  
I pluck the last of the fruits before nature ceases to grow visible. 
 
And so my thoughts drift out into the field of expectation 
where the parting is so normal 
and the falling of the leaves is possible 
and makes the landing softer. 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 11:01 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
					 
				 
				
					 dancing in silhouette 
				 
				
					
					
					
near ferns in my garden, spreading and sprinkling 
like the green-grey fountain in the Plaza del Piedro 
 
I  think, so I think of the lost shadows of the evening  
and contemplate you for a while 
A dreamy being, you are 
 
You dance the silhouette of the swaying of the palm trees 
with a vulnerable smile of subdued pleasure 
 
across the pavement of my deserted love's square a last ray of sunshine sweeps 
and kisses the earth with advancing broad lips 
until it has taken over the whole of the square 
and I am getting lost in you, my love 
 
with my old clarinet, out of date, 
I echo in all the corners, into the dark alleys 
 
This is how I console the bygone day 
 
					 22-06-2024 om 10:59 
geschreven door juliusdzs  
 
					
					 
					 
				 
				
					
					
					
					
					 
				 
			
			
			
			
			
		 
		
		
			
			
			
			
			
			
				
				
					 
				 
				
					 Over mijzelf 
				 
				
					 
				 
				
				
					 
				 
				
					Ik ben 
, en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam 
Julius V.E. Dreyfsandt zu Schlamm .
                        Ik ben een man en woon in 
Nijnsel   (Nederland) en mijn beroep is 
proza dichter/poet . 
                        Ik ben geboren op 14/07/1948 en ben nu dus 
77 jaar  jong.
                        Mijn hobby's zijn: Mijn hobby's zijn: music improvisations organ and other instruments. julius.dreyfsandt.zu.schlamm@gmail.com.
                        J.Tourbière de Sable - poèmes en français (schuilnaam Franse teksten)    Johannes Revisius (schuilnaam impr. componist) 
					
 
				 
				
					 
				 
			
			
				
				
					 
				 
				
					UN LEGADO PROSAICO