Autumn


An mein Kind

Mascha Kaléko

Dir will ich meines Liebsten Augen geben

Und deiner Seele flammenreines Glühn.

Ein Träumer wirst du sein und dennoch kühn

Verschlossne Tore aus den Angeln heben

Wirst ausziehen,das gelobte Glück zu schmieden.

Dein Weg sei frei.Denn aller Weisheit Schluss

Bleibt doch zuletzt,dass jedermann hienieden

All seine Fehler selbst begehen muss.

Ich kann vor keinem Abgrund dich bewahren,

Hoch in die Wolken hängte Gott den Kranz.

Nur eines nimm von dem,was ich erfahren:

Wer du auch seist, nur eines-sei es ganz!

Du bist,vergiss es nicht,von jenem Baume,

Der ewig zweigte und nie Wurzeln schlug.

Der Freiheit Fackel leuchtet uns im Traume-

Bewahr den Tropfen Öl im alten Krug!


Bella Ciao

Rice-weeders on the River Po basin

Una mattina mi son svegliato, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! Una mattina mi son svegliato, e ho trovato l’invasor.

O partigiano, portami via, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! O partigiano, portami via, ché mi sento di morir.

E se io muoio da partigiano, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! E se io muoio da partigiano, tu mi devi seppellir.

E seppellire lassù in montagna, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! E seppellire lassù in montagna, sotto l’ombra di un bel fior.

Tutte le genti che passeranno, o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! Tutte le genti che passeranno, Mi diranno «Che bel fior!»

«È questo il fiore del partigiano», o bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! «È questo il fiore del partigiano, morto per la LIBERTA!»

Winter


Urgent Urge

Beda Schmid

I’ve the urgent urge to do something extremely extreme.

Like renounce my work without knowing where to get money from after

Like run naked down the main street of Hong Kong

Like going beyond the known things.

Instead I’m browsing Facebook.

That’s also extreme. 

Extremely retarded.


Let Go

Somewhere in the Internet

Sometimes the only way to see a person to be happy, is to let him go.

And sometimes you have to extend this even to the point to let the person go out of your thoughts. 

It’s not enough to open the door. also mental attention can bound somebody, bound him to yourself, until it will get you straight to the point you call „dissatisfaction“.

Don’t cry to long after persons you let go away.

In your DNA something of them will keep on living in you, as a subtle signature.

In every cell, in every particle, they are living as a blind memoir, as a subtle feeling.

Always you will keep the loved one’s like notes in the score of your soul.

Your consciousness will recognize primarily the discordant notes. 

Those are the most important, then only thorough them you will recognize the grate sound of harmony, which is always present there where the discords don’t resound.

Love is very similar to music.

Both are invisible for all eternities.

Incomprehensible, without solid body.

Once a song ends- where did it go?-

And how did it manage to touch your heart so strong?

Without hands and even body?

All music, all love, is volatile.

You can’t catch it.

It can’t be captured.

It’s the same with encounters in-between humans.

They only exist as long their song lasts.


Foggy Thoughts

Beda Schmid

foggy thoughts

and bulky dreams

are like deadly shots

ending in bloodstreams

stroking you, like slipknots made of deems catching you on the exact spots where you feel safe, or so it seems…


What’s Love

Beda Schmid

what’s love

the child asked 

and the parents lied

what’s life 

the child asked

and the parents lied

whats the death

the child asked

and the parents lied

whats hate

the child asked

and the parents lied

why am i here

the child asked

and the parents…

looked to each other

with a repentant look


In Sleepless Nights

Beda Schmid

In sleepless nights

and sleepy days,

unlike thoughtful knight’s

frozen my brain stays,

fighting hopeless fights

against daily grays,

without any insights

on life’s plays,

pretending rights

another’s life pays,

seeking lights

lightning my runways,

something my destiny rewrites

in endless essays….


Don’t Play Games

Beda Schmid

There exist peoples, who won’t understand one thing:

that that there are peoples who seem to understand that

there are peoples who understand one thing:

that there are peoples who don’t want to understand:

there are peoples who can’t understand:

there are peoples who are able to understand one thing:

that there are peoples who will never understand:

there are peoples who maybe one day will understand,

that there are peoples who always understand one thing:

there are peoples who should understand:

there are peoples who could understand:

understand one thing:

you can’t play games with me!

Without understanding one thing

you will not win the game

believe it or not

you won’t get the pot!

don’t play games,

you will loose anyway, so

DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH ME


Was ist es Denn

Beda Schmid

Was ist es denn,

was sollte es,

das was euer liebstes,

oder das was teuer liebtest?

Was soll das kümmern,

was soll das wimmern,

über das was fehlt,

wenn ihr’s nicht seht?

Was ist es denn,

was sollte es,

das was ihr am liebsten,

das was ihr das liebste nennt?

Ist es euer alles,

ist es euer nichts!

Muss es sein,

kann es sein?

Müssen tut ihr doch endlos,

nur enden könnt ihr!

Das ist es was ihr wollt?

Zu tun,

was statt sollen,

sein kann!

Allem könnt ihr ein ende setzen,

und nichts wird allem setzen ein ENDE

Spring


Beyond Life

Beda Schmid

The best things in life are beyond terror.


Never say Never

Beda Schmid

don’t say never

don’t say always

don’t tell all

don’t tell nothing

be smoothly extreme

and extremely smooth

don’t say it’s too late

don’t say it’s too soon

don’t force 

don’t let slip away

be firmly flexible

and flexibly firm

don’t depend 

don’t renounce 

don’t accumulate 

don’t waste

be freely abstinent

and abstinently free….


Hooman

Beda Schmid

What is a perfect human?

If that’s too much… what’s a good human?

Can we? If so… why aren’t we?

Or… maybe we are already and I just don’t see it?


While waiting for That Day

Beda Schmid

While waiting for that day, lets build that day together !

The day the earth will be a planet,

instead of a bunch of nations…

The day love will be a feeling,

and not a business…

The day we will kill to eat,

and not to conquer…

The day we will wake up to enjoy our life,

and not to be slaves…

The day we will start to choose nature as our God,

instead of a super human in the sky…

The day we will stop believe in money,

but in rivers, clouds and trees…

The day we will stop to produce,

and start to create…

That day i will hopefully 

enjoy with you.

offline.


Do It

Beda Schmid

Do it, 

whatever you want

whenever you want

however you want.

Do it, 

just do it

but don’t regret

don’t feel bad

don’t feel guilty

after it’s done.

Do it,

just do 

whatever you feel

whenever you feel

however you feel.

Whatever it is,

do it with love

whenever it is,

do it with love

however it is

do it with love

And never forget

TO LOVE


Das Lied der Welt

Hugo von Hoffmansthal

Flieg hin, Zeit, du bist meine Magd,

Schmück mich, wenn es nächtet, schmück mich, wenn es tagt,

Flicht mir mein Haar, spiel mir um den Schuh,

Ich bin die Frau, die Magd bist du.

Heia!

Doch einmal trittst du zornig herein,

Die Sterne schießen schiefen Schein,

Der Wind durchfährt den hohen Saal,

Die Sonn geht aus, das Licht wird fahl,

Der Boden gibt einen toten Schein,

Da wirst du meine Herrin sein!

O weh!

Und ich deine Magd, schwach und verzagt,

Gott sei’s geklagt!

Flieg hin, Zeit! Die Zeit ist noch weit!

Heia!

Summer


Life II

Beda Schmid

Life’s simply… 

beautiful, 

amazing, 

challenging.

I’m inclined to hope.

Hope it never ends.


I LOVE YOU

Beda Schmid

I saw a sparkle, in the wood’s darkness.

Lonely, in a glass as a harness.

Oh, little Flame, why you in there?

Very clearly, you can’t live without Air!

Eh, you lost soul, the sparkle spoke, if I’m out of this glass,

Yet free and feral on the grass…

Oh, I’ll burn everything, you the world and all the trees!

Unless, tell me, are you made of gold, please?

No, but better,

Oh listen, to the letter:

My little flame, You need to breathe, so I’ll shatter

All that glass, your harness, no matter.

Think how high the flames, the higher, the better.

The Flame, Shy at first, 

Expecting the worst,

Reaching Out of the glass slowly grew,

While Following a gentle wind, that blew.

Hence, The Flame soon saw, even what’s made of gold

Always Melts, but now please, read this in bold!

Think, Even if you turn it all to ashes and dust,

For your breathing, to me is still a must.

Oh Flame, Burn!

Reckless Fire, Burn!

Even if you turn it all to ashes,

Vigorously burn! Let free your flashes!

Enjoy, it’s just fair.

Rejoice, you flame, as I’m just air.


Life

Beda Schmid

Life is like a mountain.

When you’re young,

you are looking up to that mountain,

and you’ll think: 

Wow there is so much to do.

And you’ll climb up.

Once you’re older 

you look back

down to the valley,

and think:

Wow this have been a lot of things.

I have climbed quiet far up!

Stay young

keep on looking at the mountain in front of you

instead of looking back and look to that valley.