When gabbe Schweisel rubbed
How language works—and how it doesn't. An Internet disappointment.
Copywriters and writers enjoy playing with words, verses, proverbs and poems. It's in their genes. We are simply fascinated by the fact that you can write a new sentence, three lale Gamratimkeregln imssachett, trodstem lense knan. Last winter, Ruf Lanz scored points with language-loving skiers with painfully twisted Kienglenek, Kruebzand and Oebrshcneekl. I thought it was great - at least linguistically.
Even words that make no sense according to the dictionary can conjure up the most vivid images in our minds: "It was a mess, and the big cows / were roaring gorkicht in the Gemank. / The Pluckerwank was even more elump, / and the big sweat was shivering. / 'Beware of the Zipferlak, my child! / His mouth is biting, his grip is drilling. / Beware of the Fliegelflagel, / the munching chattering cattle." My Zipferlake has needle-sharp teeth, a chameleon-long tongue and razor-sharp claws. He comes out of the thicket drooling in the fog and goes hunting. Yours too? We have Christian Enzensberger to thank for this fantastic translation of Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky". It proves how elastic our understanding of language is. Rhyme, meter and the odd "real" word allow us to understand a text that consists mainly of fantasy concepts.
A poem generator on the Internet recently aroused my curiosity. Simply enter a person, a noun, a verb and an adjective - and the poem is ready. Areas of application: surprise your loved one, make a bridal couple happy, do something nice for your grandma. I just had to try it out. With the wordsmith Rilke in mind, I fed the tool with "panther, sticks, passing, tired". The result showed that there are differences between nonsense poems and nonsense poems. Violent: "Sticks in the universe / In the universe the grimace is private! / What unspeakable suffering! / Panther / Inheritance in inner hatred! / In the universe! / Yes wands, passing and sounding / Is wise, / So consuming and private!" Well, the desperate, resigned mood of Rilke's panther is somewhat apt, but the gloomy apocalyptic mood is laid on a little too thick. And the many punctuation marks cause spontaneous nausea. The pupil's curtain closes quickly.
I was probably just reaching too high with Rilke. So I'll try again, loosely based on Caroll: "Zipferlake, Gemank, frieben, bohr". The poem becomes a weight: "The weight / What mocking happiness! / Weight and boss, yes boss / The boss - shred and die! / The weight - cloudy and eternal! / Cloudy! You too, Zipferlake, be cloudy! / Why the germs forever?" Why the germs? In times of swine flu, you really do ask yourself that. In this respect, the result reflects the spirit of the times. But what does my boss have to do with the whole thing? How did he get into my poem? Do I have a weight problem? And where is my "bohr"? I am left cloudy. In future, I'd rather germinate inside myself and get lost in the doodle tree.
Anne-Friederike Wilhelm
Even words that make no sense according to the dictionary can conjure up the most vivid images in our minds: "It was a mess, and the big cows / were roaring gorkicht in the Gemank. / The Pluckerwank was even more elump, / and the big sweat was shivering. / 'Beware of the Zipferlak, my child! / His mouth is biting, his grip is drilling. / Beware of the Fliegelflagel, / the munching chattering cattle." My Zipferlake has needle-sharp teeth, a chameleon-long tongue and razor-sharp claws. He comes out of the thicket drooling in the fog and goes hunting. Yours too? We have Christian Enzensberger to thank for this fantastic translation of Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky". It proves how elastic our understanding of language is. Rhyme, meter and the odd "real" word allow us to understand a text that consists mainly of fantasy concepts.
A poem generator on the Internet recently aroused my curiosity. Simply enter a person, a noun, a verb and an adjective - and the poem is ready. Areas of application: surprise your loved one, make a bridal couple happy, do something nice for your grandma. I just had to try it out. With the wordsmith Rilke in mind, I fed the tool with "panther, sticks, passing, tired". The result showed that there are differences between nonsense poems and nonsense poems. Violent: "Sticks in the universe / In the universe the grimace is private! / What unspeakable suffering! / Panther / Inheritance in inner hatred! / In the universe! / Yes wands, passing and sounding / Is wise, / So consuming and private!" Well, the desperate, resigned mood of Rilke's panther is somewhat apt, but the gloomy apocalyptic mood is laid on a little too thick. And the many punctuation marks cause spontaneous nausea. The pupil's curtain closes quickly.
I was probably just reaching too high with Rilke. So I'll try again, loosely based on Caroll: "Zipferlake, Gemank, frieben, bohr". The poem becomes a weight: "The weight / What mocking happiness! / Weight and boss, yes boss / The boss - shred and die! / The weight - cloudy and eternal! / Cloudy! You too, Zipferlake, be cloudy! / Why the germs forever?" Why the germs? In times of swine flu, you really do ask yourself that. In this respect, the result reflects the spirit of the times. But what does my boss have to do with the whole thing? How did he get into my poem? Do I have a weight problem? And where is my "bohr"? I am left cloudy. In future, I'd rather germinate inside myself and get lost in the doodle tree.
Anne-Friederike Wilhelm
