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What are you waiting for?
The next day? Or nay
The year thereafter?
The sky above you is torn,
The waters have come upon you,
The earth has opened up
To engulf you—
And you are still there.
What are you waiting for?
The coming of the Holy Spirit or nay
The trumpet call of Judgement Day?
You could rise and cast the first stone
Or at least gather up your bones
And proclaim a new religion—
What are you waiting for?
(Translated from German by Hans-Christian Oeser)
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
My mother (III)
When I saw her laid out like that,
she was far more beautiful
than I remembered her,
quite noble and refined,
almost like an Indian Maharani
who had just taken off her headdress
to have a few minutes’ rest
between two receptions.
Then I understood
what I had failed to see,
acknowledge and appreciate for sixty years.
I bowed
und begged her forgiveness.
(Translated from German by Hans-Christian Oeser)
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
Everything is used up, everything is empty
Everything is used up.
Not just the fruit
and the wine.
Even the water
and the bread.
The whole house,
from cellar to roof,
is empty.
But look, on the windowsill,
there’s still that little inkpot
into which you year by year—
Forget that, too.
It’s empty.
(Translated from German by Hans-Christian Oeser)
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
Author’s Bionote:
*Matthias Politycki (Germany, 1955),
since 2021 living in Vienna, Austria, is considered “the adventurer of contemporary
German literature” (Tagesspiegel) and “one of the great linguistic virtuosos”
among German-language writers (Deutschlandfunk). He is a member of the Free
Academy of Arts in Hamburg and, since 2025, President of PEN Germany. He has
published novels, short stories, essays, and ten volumes of poetry since 1987;
his work is published by Hoffmann und Campe. His website: https://matthias-politycki.de/
The next day? Or nay
The year thereafter?
The waters have come upon you,
The earth has opened up
To engulf you—
What are you waiting for?
The coming of the Holy Spirit or nay
The trumpet call of Judgement Day?
Or at least gather up your bones
And proclaim a new religion—
What are you waiting for?
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
she was far more beautiful
than I remembered her,
quite noble and refined,
almost like an Indian Maharani
who had just taken off her headdress
to have a few minutes’ rest
between two receptions.
what I had failed to see,
acknowledge and appreciate for sixty years.
I bowed
und begged her forgiveness.
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
Not just the fruit
and the wine.
Even the water
and the bread.
The whole house,
from cellar to roof,
is empty.
there’s still that little inkpot
into which you year by year—
It’s empty.
(from “Meisenfrei. 99 Gedichte”. Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, 2025)
(Photo by Carsten Westphal)