Farewell Pandemic Poetry

I’ve lost many chances to create poetry from pandemic politics. So many metaphors weren’t used to serve the fine arts.

But finally I rise to the challenge. Our grand opening-up-anything is being celebrated in each of our provinces. Text snippets from one of these press conferences this week are intruding my waking and sleeping mind. It was just a short news ticker article, yet rich in allusions and allegories.

To present them to my international readership, I let Google Translate them. I know its quaint charm is lost in translation.


The tavern is
de facto
Starting point for our fight
Now is the time to hang up your apron

back to life in
the third wave
like “the apricot of the Wachau
it’s boiled up

It is now the time to go to a pub
than many of the experts
start in

from zero to 100
Overstrain of the intensive care units by vaccination
the bed is made

An indication that the situation is becoming dramatic
Many are starved and now want to consume
The table is set
trust is important



This is the original German poem:


Das Wirtshaus ist
de facto
Startpunkt für unseren Kampf
Jetzt ist die Zeit die Schürze an den Nagel zu hängen

wieder Leben in
die dritte Welle
wie “die Marille zur Wachau”
es ist aufgekocht

Es sei jetzt die Zeit für Wirtshausbesuche
als viele der Experten

von Null auf 100
Überforderung der Intensivstationen durch Durchimpfung
das Bett ist gemacht

Indiz, dass die Situation dramatisch wird
Viele sind ausgehungert und wollen nun konsumieren
Der Tisch ist gedeckt
Vertrauen ist wichtig

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Irgendeine says:


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