I

“Untergang”
An Karl Borromaeas Heinrich

Über den weißen Weiher
Sind die wilden Vögel fortgezogen.
Am Abend weht von unseren Sternen ein eisiger Wind.

Über unsere Gräber
Beugt sich die zerbrochene Stirne der Nacht.
Unter Eichen schaukeln wir auf einem silbernen Kahn.

Immer klingen die weißen Mauern der Stadt.
Unter Dornenbogen
O mein Bruder klimmen wir blinde Zeiger gen Mitternacht.

—By Georg Trakl

II

It's all about short notes today:

• I got a bit of a sunburn, which was somewhat amusing because H was discussing her disgusting days working at a tanning salon. It's my first sunburn of the year; even thereafter I was the most pale at the party.
• This afternoon I attended a baby shower for a colleague in the department; it was held at another colleague's wonderful house a 20–30 minute walk away. And after certain guest left we had happy hour, which continued and continued until it began to rain after 10p.m., we came inside, and another colleague gave me and R rides home (plural, since R did not get off at my stop).
• Last night I attended a Ph.D. graduation party for a friend and there were burgers and brats, beer and other booze. Today we had brats (turkey, regular, tofu), burgers (beef, bison, ostrich), beer and other booze (yum, margaritas).
• So last night I visited the Madison Trader Joe's for the first time; it's on Monroe Street near Barriques. Tonight I'm going to drink the Two Buck Chuck (Three Buck Chuck in this city) Shiraz that I picked up at TJ's last night.
• I was pleased last evening when the Spurs pulled out the win against the Suns. Not counting the wonderful HuSites who live in Texas, I think the Spurs are about the only thing I like about that state.

I was sent the Call for Papers for the Hawaii International Conference on Arts and Humanities (January 11–14, 2008); I'm tempted to send in an abstract ... I've never been to Hawaii. Of course, the odds of being accepted are slim. And I suspect that attending is expensive.

This coming fall I should be focusing on finding a job and presenting at conferences. And writing papers. That is, to do those things, I should be done with the dissertation. My summer non-diss stress is housing related. Most leases here end August 14 and begin August 15, but mine ends at the end of July. If I can find someone looking for a roommate, someone who already has a place, then something might be available by the end of July. The market has become soft enough that some of the August 15 places might be vacant now and thus available earlier.

Ah, sometimes it sucks to be poor and unemployable.

Regarding the poem: another mediocre poem. I returned to Trakl so as to return to Wright and Bly, for the husband of the hostess of the party today is a poet and has an opinion (not particularly positive) regarding Bly's own poetry. Here Bly returns to using the present progressive when the simple present would do and would do better. In the German I'm rather fond of the phrase “die zerbrochene Stirne der Nacht.” Bly and Wright accurately translate it as “broken forehead of night” but add a “the” that is there in the German but unnecessary in English. It makes it more awkward, I would say. Why not “The broken forehead of night bends”?

III

“Descent and Defeat”
To Karl Borromaus Heinrich

Over the white fishpond
The wild birds have blown away.
An icy wind drifts from our stars at evening.

Over our graves
The broken forehead of the night is bending.
Under the oaks we veer in a silver skiff.

The white walls of the city are always giving off sound.
Under arching thorns
O my brother blind minute-hands we are climbing toward midnight.

—Translated by James Wright and Robert Bly