Zaehme mich

nach John Donne Hier lieg ich von der Lieb erschlagen,
    Frankfurt/Main 1994 und John Donne Alchimie der Liebe, Zürich 1996
    The Bait
    Come live with me and be my love,
    And we will some new pleasures prove,
    Of golden sands and crystal brooks,
    With silken lines and silver hooks.
    There will the river whispering run,
    Warmed by thine eyes more than the sun.
    And there the enamoured fish will stay, Begging themselves they may betray.
    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
    Each fish, which every Channel hath,
    Will amorously to thee swim,
    Gladder to catch thee live, then thou him.
    If thou, to be so seen, beest loath,
    By sun or moon, thou darkenest both;
    And if myself have leave to see,
    I need not their light, having thee.
    Let others freeze with angling reeds,
    And cut their legs with shells and weeds, Or treacherously poor fish beset
    With strangling snare or windowy net;
    Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
    The bedded fish in banks out-wrest.
    Of curious traitors, sleave-silk flies, Bewitch poor fishes’ wandering eyes.
    For thee, thou needest no such deceit,
    For thou thyself art thine own bait;
    That fish that is not catched thereby,
    Alas, is wiser far than I.
    S. 245
    der erste Vers von Marlowe …
    Die ersten Zeilen von Christopher Marlowes (1564-1593)
    »The Passionate Shepherd to his Love« lauten: Come live with me and be my love,
    And we will all the pleasures prove,
    That Valleys, groves, hills and fields
    Woods or steepy mountains …
    S. 292
    Porphyria betete mich an …
    Robert Browning (1812-1889) »Porphyria’s Lover«
    Porphyria worshipped me; surprise
    Made my heart swell, and still it grew
    While I debated what to do.
    That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
    Perfectly pure and good; I found
    A thing to do [with] all her hair.
    S. 316
    Dein Sklave, der ich bin …
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616) Sonett 57
    Übersetzt von Gottlob Regis
    Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire?
    I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require.
    Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour …
    S. 317
    O lass mich, deines Winks gewärtig …
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616) Sonett 58
    Übersetzt von Gottlob Regis
    O, let me suffer, being at your beck,
    th’ imprisoned absence of your liberty; And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each check,
    Without accusing you of injury.
    S. 319
    Sturmhöhe (Wuthering Heights)
    Roman von Emily Brontë (1818-1848)
    S. 319
    Jane Eyre
    s. Anm. zu S. 71
    S. 320
    Herz der Finsternis (Heart of Darkness) Erzählung von Joseph Conrad (1857-1924) S. 320
    Sylvia Plaths Gedichte seien vollendeter als die von Ted Hughes.
    Die amerikanische Dichterin Sylvia Plath (1932-1963) war mit dem englischen Lyriker Ted Hughes (1930-1998) verheiratet. Nach ihrem Tod durch Selbstmord beschäftigte sich Hughes in seinem Werk (unter anderem auch in Birthday Letters) immer wieder mit ihr S. 371
    La chair est triste …
    Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898) »Brise Marine«
    (»Seewind«)