(in memory of Ottilie Wildermuth, 1817-1877)
In the ‘Seufzerwäldchen’ (Small Forest of Sighs), at the end of the avenue, is the memorial for the writer Ottilie Wildermuth, the only memorial in Tübingen dedicated to a woman.
Even if thunder rolls,
lightning quivers,
may my little child
fall quietly asleep......
May the little bell sound for me
a quiet peal of funeral bells
when I lay to rest
my brief happiness.
Under the tree,
reading Theory of Colours.
Under the tree,
the light in her hair.
Under the tree,
the birds bathe in dust.
Under the tree,
Otto is breathing.
Under the tree,
the bells in the sun.
Under the tree,
her eyes flash at me.
Under the tree,
her young hips sway.
Under the tree,
sipping days.
Under the tree,
news is poor.
Under the tree,
there is wine.
Under the tree,
no bullets.
Under the tree,
my heart singing.
Under the tree,
Tuebingen lives.
Under the tree,
Tuebingen groans.
Under the tree,
I see for miles.
Under the tree,
I float on the clouds.
Under the tree,
blackbird’s throbbing.
Under the tree,
love life.
Under the tree,
this poem.
Under the tree,
I can sigh.
Under the tree,
feel a moment.
Under the tree,
beauty.
Under the tree,
sense the pity.
Under the tree,
touch this city.
Under the tree,
find distance.
Under the tree,
miles away.
Under the tree,
thinking of you.
Under the tree,
learning Goethe.
Under the tree,
drenched in years.
Under the tree,
drunk
forever.
KEITH ARMSTRONG,
Tuebingen
