{"id":10433,"date":"2021-11-21T12:28:14","date_gmt":"2021-11-21T10:28:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10433"},"modified":"2021-12-23T12:44:16","modified_gmt":"2021-12-23T10:44:16","slug":"ulmenhof","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=10433","title":{"rendered":"ULMENHOF"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

ULMENHOF<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Der winterlich aufd\u00e4mmernde See
und dein Gesicht, das manchmal in fahles Licht taucht.
Wind, der locker herab f\u00e4llt,
regt kaum sp\u00fcrbar die Fl\u00e4chen auf.
Stunden, als w\u00e4re Zeit zu verschenken. Die Sonne,
noch hinter dem Baumhorizont,
sch\u00fcrt ein schw\u00e4rzliches Fr\u00fchrot
und steigt allm\u00e4hlich \u00fcber den See,
bis die Schattenkonturen zerflie\u00dfen.
Der Tag, sein gelbes Gekreisch.<\/p>\n


ROLAND ERB<\/p>\n

……………………….<\/p>\n

ULMENHOF<\/p>\n

The lake dawning in winter
and your facesometimes bathed in a pale light.
Wind, that falls loosely,
hardly noticeably upsets the surfaces.
Hours, as if there were time to be wasted. The sun,
still behind the trees horizon,
stirs up a blackish early red
and gradually rises above the lake,
until the shadow contours melt away.
The day, its yellow shrieking.<\/p>\n

……………………….<\/p>\n

ULMENHOF<\/p>\n

Lacul zorilor de iarn\u0103
\u0219i chipul t\u0103u uneori sc\u0103ldat \u00eentr-o lumin\u0103 palid\u0103.
V\u00e2ntul cazand lejer,
abia starnind suprafetele.
Ore, de parc\u0103 timpul ar exista spre-a fi pierdut. Soarele,
\u00eenc\u0103 \u00een spatele copacilor din zare,
st\u00e2rne\u0219te un ro\u0219u negricios timpuriu
\u0219i se ridic\u0103 treptat deasupra lacului,
p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd contururile umbrei se topesc.
Ziua, tipatul ei galben.<\/p>\n


………………………<\/p>\n

ULMENHOF<\/p>\n

Le lac de l’aube d’hiver
et ton visage, parfois baign\u00e9 d’une p\u00e2le lumi\u00e8re.
Le vent, qui tombe l\u00e2chement,
agite \u00e0 peine les surfaces.
Des heures comme s’il y avait du temps \u00e0 perdre. Le soleil,
toujours derri\u00e8re l’horizon des arbres,
attise un rouge pr\u00e9coce noir\u00e2tre
et s’\u00e9l\u00e8ve peu \u00e0 peu au-dessus du lac,
jusqu’\u00e0 ce que les contours de l’ombre se fondent.
Le jour, son cri jaune.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

traducere, Maria Magdalena Biela<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[39,36],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-roland","category-translated-german-english"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10433"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10433\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10435,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10433\/revisions\/10435"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}