G. P. Skratz's translation of "Opus Null," set for tabla by Andy Dinsmoor.
G. P. Skratz's translation of "To Anna Blume," set for guitar by Andy Dinsmoor.
G. P. Skratz: vocal
Andy Dinsmoor: tabla
(translated from the German of Hans Arp by G. P. Skratz,
tabla setting by Andy Dinsmoor)
I am the great The
the rigorous rule
the shaft of ozone prima qua
the anonymous one percent.
The P. P. Tit., o & the trom
trombone without mouth or horn
the great dish of Hercules
the left foot from the right-handed chef.
I am the long lifelong
the 12th sense of the ovary
the complete Augustine
in a brilliantly cinematic wardrobe.
He pulls coffin after coffin after coffin
from his dark coffin.
He weeps from the bow of the ship
of his soul & wraps himself in mourning veils.
Half wizard half conductor
he climbs time
without a staff.
There is a green clock-dial on his hat.
He is falling from the driver's seat.
With that, he knocks the ghetto-fish
from his well-furnished easel.
His long cubic stockings split
twice in two thrice in three.
His sits with himself in a circle.
The circle sits with the odd body.
A bag containing an erect comb
serves him as sofa & as wife.
The odd body the odd bag
the of of & the left-handed fish
& so forth & so on
the odd body falls out of the bride.
With his steam-engine, he draws
hat after hat from his hat
& stands them at attention in a circle
just as one does with soldiers.
Then he fills each hat full of blood
smears them with flag-fat
& mounts a rifle into bed.
He dreams of hats & blood
of a red monotony.
It rolls it shoves itself around
to an awful song.
his childish hat dances around the sun
in his bunk--to coo, to deafen at the center of the light
out of his nose grow baseballs & falcons
& with a blast of thunder
mother nature plummets from a dark pine.
Hear this piece performed (from the CD, Triumph of the Damned):
G. P. Skratz: vocal
Andy Dinsmoor: guitar
TO ANNA BLUME
(translated from the German of Kurt Schwitters by G. P. Skratz,
guitar setting by Andy Dinsmoor)
O mistress of my 27 senses, I love you!
--Thou thee thy thine, I you, you me--We?
That belongs (by the way) somewhere else.
Who are you, room of countless women? You are--aren't you?--
People say you're--let them talk, the bastards, they don't know
how the church tower stands.
You put your hat on your feet & wander off on your
hands, on your hands you wander off.
Hello, your red dress with white folds. Red
I love Anna Blume, red I love you!--Thou thee thy
thine, I you, you me--
That belongs (by the way) in the cold fire.
Red bloom, red Anna Blume, how do they say it?
Readers: answer this question & win a prize:
1. Anna Blume has a bird.
2. Anna Blume is red.
3. What color is the bird?
Blue is the color of your golden hair.
Red is the call of your green birds.
You plain maid in your everyday dress, you lovely green
beast, I love you! Thou thee thy thine, I you, you me--
That belongs (by the way) in the coal chest.
Anna Blume! Anna, a-n-n-a, I trickle your name.
Your name drips like soft cattle droppings.
Do you know it, Anna, do you know it already?
One can read you backward, & you, you most magnificent
of all, you are the same from back or front: "a-n-n-a."
Cattle-droppings trickle stroking my back.
Anna Blume, you dripping beast, I love you!