POEM
Inventory
Gunter EichThis is my cap,
this is my overcoat,
here is my shave kit
in its linen pouch.
Some field rations:
my dish, my tumbler,
here in the tin-plate
I’ve scratched my name.
Scratched it here with this
precious nail
I keep concealed
from coveting eyes.
In the bread bag I have
a pair of wool socks
and a few things that I
discuss with no one,
and these form a pillow
for my head at night.
Some cardboard lies
between me and the ground.
The pencil’s the thing
I love the most:
By day it writes verses
I make up at night.
This is my notebook,
this my rain gear,
this is my towel,
this is my twine.
Translated by Joshua Mehigan
Source: Poetry (April 2009).
This poem originally appeared in the April 2009 issue of Poetry.
THIS ISSUE IS SOLD OUT
Günter Eich (1907–1972 began writing the poems that compose his first major book, Abelegene . . . MORE »
