Translation Iain Galbraith
Journal, Lago Momentane
our arrival was catastrophically fine,
the sky picturesquely colourless, the present
like a precise body of water.
we collected gods and purified
them (of necessity) until late at night. the air
was inevitably large. there were sung beasts,
phenomena of peculiar panicle.
most of it looked possible.
we felt conspicuously now.
for Jan Wagner
behind extensive sheep lay Premium Highlands,
its alphalandscape was instantly cognizable, its adequate design
a middle stratum in the prime of life, you spoke
of mountaining together, several egocentric pubs later on
of manic harvest, who knows, these foreign parts were intransitive
home – and therefore dangerous. they kept malt-cows
which acted like malt-cows. every day contained perhaps
ten kilos of beauty. sun-ups like monsoons.
rainfall sometimes like the light, sometimes like substantives.
around us so-called Glenn Gould birds. peculiar windows.
they too were based on charter language. bridging
what was a gap. and parting your gaze followed them
in an oddly Victorian way.
Mountains of Deer
from a primed and decoy landscape we extracted
part of the inhabited zone: a typically fuzzy population of deer.
a homeopathic specimen of these we dipped in our synaptic fluid
showing that their forest function ran in inverse reciprocity
to trees, or else behaved as if it did (–>Schrödinger’s flicker).
their frequency was green, their mean was higher still than zero
and could be gauged with colour theories and clocks.
into stands, sounds and stereometry we split several of the samples
(and yet I liked the eyes especially, which lacked conclusive values).
we categorized them as a bundle of aligned impulses
with an alternating locus. they coupled to and fro and were
orthographic relations. their retarded evolution gave us time.
thus we induced their radial decay and at ease
went back inside our dwelling products.