They turn stiff as scarecrows,
angry, bent, in the middle of the field,
if someone drives past along the road.
One of them, the
people in motion.
Scarecrows standing silent,
crooked in a field
that isn’t theirs.
Their hats sit firm
on heads with no faces.
Someone drives past.
One of them.
Sometimes the wind
changes abruptly.
Sometimes scarecrows
can march. Sometimes
they fertilize with overseers.
When the scarecrows
don’t have faces any more,
the wind will soon
change.
Gerhard Fritsch (1924 - 1969) Austria
Translated by Vincent Kling
angry, bent, in the middle of the field,
if someone drives past along the road.
One of them, the
people in motion.
Scarecrows standing silent,
crooked in a field
that isn’t theirs.
Their hats sit firm
on heads with no faces.
Someone drives past.
One of them.
Sometimes the wind
changes abruptly.
Sometimes scarecrows
can march. Sometimes
they fertilize with overseers.
When the scarecrows
don’t have faces any more,
the wind will soon
change.
Gerhard Fritsch (1924 - 1969) Austria
Translated by Vincent Kling
Source: Calque
This poem is haunting and powerful, using the imagery of scarecrows to evoke themes of oppression and resistance. The closing lines, especially, leave a lasting impact—change is inevitable, even in silence. A thought-provoking piece!
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