Distributed for Seagull Books
Collected Poems
Marked by his disregard for material values, a profound engagement with the landscape of the Upper Rhine, and a lasting commitment to humanity, Brambach’s poems are direct, unadorned, and free of pomp or ideology. His quiet images conjure up landscapes, small rural scenes, and interiors of bars and cafes. Brambach was, above all, an observer whose poems provide insights of deceptive simplicity that form a poetic essence confirming the significance of this author’s voice. This collection of poems, masterfully translated by noted writer and poet Esther Kinsky, represents the first major English translation of a significant European poet.
Reviews
Table of Contents
Translator’s Note
Toss a Coin
Life
Lumberjack Bar
The Greenhouse, My Abode
March in Basel
Snow
In Those Times
Day’s Labour
Poetry
The Axe
Schoolyard
At the Hoarding
Paul
By the River
It Was Loneliness that Forced Me
In the Afternoon
Toss a Coin
Letter to Hans Bender
Dreamt Poem
Old People’s Home
Light in August
Bistro
Sung Landscape
Confidence
Hike
There Will Be
Richterswil I
Richterswil II
Brief Note
Le Lavandou
Moon
Late Morning
Friends
Merriment in the Garden
Achim Raabe
The Wind Break
Summer Sunday
The Tree
Dog Days
Evil Tricks
Report from the Garden
One Day among Many
Brooding Summer
Indentity Card
Day in July
Encounter
Granite
Sant Eremo
Under Apple Trees
Tiredness
Portrait of a Young Man
The Erratic Rock
In July and August
Embassy
Words for W.
Belated Icarus
No One Will Come
Salt
Death of a Centaur
Endangered Landscape
Single Men
Organic Fault
Ironing
The Stranger
The End of Something
Visit in M.
Setting Sail
Southern Town
The Gingko Leaf
Poem for Frank
You beside Me
Coming Home
A Leaf in Memory of September
Hard Times for Drinkers
Back Then
In the Vineyard
Goodbye to the Eiffel
Shots
Promenade
Beyond Rijeka
Black Forest
Athletics for Hares
Health
Lucky Charms
Departure
Late in the Evening
Cold
Traces
Dark Day
Flight Time
Straw Flowers at Farewell
Pigeons When Sleep Is All I Long for
Hotel Room
Caution Should Be Called for
Everyday
Also in April
‘The year still young…’
‘No sweet green glade…’
‘As it has been raining…’
‘My ancestors never left…’
‘So many wonders in this world…’
‘Dust is still an alien word…’
‘The ribbon blue as Mörike saw it…’
‘The maypoles standing tall…’
‘Not strange at all…’
‘The birds are shouting…’
‘The evening’s still far away…’
‘Your strength Ulea…’
‘A stiff old-fashioned straw hat…’
‘High noon, Sunday afternoon…’
‘Me with my prose…’
‘Perpetual begetting…’
‘Summer evenings…’
‘Not wanting to be part…’
‘Concrete can be so ugly…’
‘Surely the summer…’
‘To live in a sunflower…’
‘Fly a kite…’
‘To write a poem…’
‘Month of wine…’
‘Westwind with its unspeakable force…’
‘Taking a bite…’
‘The rows of vines…’
‘The cottage gardens…’
‘Last day of October…’
‘Free time…’
‘Must a summer poem…’
‘Sitting by the window…’
‘A postcard from the Caribbean…’
‘Ice grey, a wolf word…’
‘My four and sixtieth winter…’
‘Rust-red Reynard…’
‘Picked up a handful of snow…’
‘Ten degrees below zero…’
‘Foehn wind in February…’
‘Never put to paper…’
Notes