February 6, 2011
TO ANNA BLUME
O mistress of my 27 senses, I love you!
–Thou thee thy thine, I you, you me–We?
That belongs (by the way) somewhere else.
Who are you, room of countless women? You are–aren’t you?–
People say you’re–let them talk, the bastards, they don’t know
how the church tower stands.
You put your hat on your feet & wander off on your
hands, on your hands you wander off.
Hello, your red dress with white folds. Red
I love Anna Blume, red I love you!–Thou thee thy
thine, I you, you me–
That belongs (by the way) in the cold fire.
Red bloom, red Anna Blume, how do they say it?
Readers: answer this question & win a prize:
1. Anna Blume has a bird.
2. Anna Blume is red.
3. What color is the bird?
Blue is the color of your golden hair.
Red is the call of your green birds.
You plain maid in your everyday dress, you lovely green
beast, I love you! Thou thee thy thine, I you, you me–
That belongs (by the way) in the coal chest.
Anna Blume! Anna, a-n-n-a, I trickle your name.
Your name drips like soft cattle droppings.
Do you know it, Anna, do you know it already?
One can read you backward, & you, you most magnificent
of all, you are the same from back or front: “a-n-n-a.”
Cattle-droppings trickle stroking my back.
Anna Blume, you dripping beast, I love you!
–translated from the German of Kurt Schwitters