Rose Ausländer’s life was one of almost constant movement, change and turmoil. Her childhood, however, showed little indication of the upheavals to come. Born Rosalie Scherzer in 1901 in Czernowitz, then part of Austria-Hungary, she grew up speaking German, and also Hebrew, in a closely-knit Jewish family. But during the First World War Czernowitz was occupied by Romania, and she fled with her family to Vienna, then Budapest. Returning after the war, Rose studied Philosophy and Literature at Czernowitz University, but emigrated to America with a friend, Igaz Ausländer, in 1921, after her father’s death. They married two years later, and she began to publish poems in anthologies. But the marriage did not last and in 1931, after the couple had divorced, Rose returned to Czernowitz to look after her mother. A first collection, Der Regenbogen (The Rainbow), appeared in 1939 but, though it received good reviews, it was impossible at that time for a Jewish author to be accepted. She tried living in New York but returned very soon to Czernowitz and her family. In 1941 Czernowitz was occupied by Nazi troops and she and her mother, unable to escape from the Jewish ghetto, spent most of the next year in hiding. It was at this time that she first met Paul Celan. Czernowitz was liberated by the Russians in 1944, and for the next 3 years Rose Ausländer had a comparatively stable life until, in 1946, when Czernowitz became part of the Ukraine, she again left for New York, leaving behind her mother, whose health by this time was very fragile. In New York she tried to obtain a visa so her mother could join her, but suffered a breakdown when her mother died in 1947. For the next few years, Rose Ausländer wrote only in English but by the late 1950’s, having returned to Europe several times and renewed her friendship with Celan, she was writing again in German. Blinder Sommer (Blind Summer) was published in Vienna in 1965 and was followed by 36 Gerechte (36 of the Just) in 1967, Ohne Visum (Without a Visa) in 1974 and Andere Zeichen (Other Signs) in 1975. In 1965 she returned permanently to Europe, settling in Düsseldorf, in Germany. She received several literary prizes, and a great deal of critical acclaim. After 1981, having become very frail, she wrote no more poetry. She died in the Nelly Sachs Home for the Jewish Elderly in Düsseldorf in 1988.

Her poetry is full of images from the ghetto years – of poverty, hunger, coffins, blood, ashes and smoke. It is, not surprisingly, often about identity, language, family ties, or Jewish belief. Her later poetry is less strictly formal, more colloquial in tone, and tends towards slant rhyme, rather than full rhyme, and towards syntactic pattern rather than regular metre.

The book from which these translations are taken was first published in a monolingual version in 1995 by Arc Publications, Todmorden. A revised bilingual edition is planned for 2010.

Snow

Snow falls
the world turns white

In the sun
that white glitters
in every colour

White stars
blossom in the air

On the horizon
beyond the mountains
look: Snow White
and the Seven Dwarves

At night
the white is black
black as the dark queen
beyond the mountains.

Schnee fällt
die Welt wird weiβ

In der Sonne
glitzert das Weiβ
in allen Farben

Weiβe Sterne
blühn in der Luft

Am Horizont
hinter den Bergen
sieh Schneewittchen
und die sieben Zwerge

Nachts
ist das Weiβ schwarz
wie die finstere Königin
hinter den Bergen

The Carnival Over

The carnival over, the lean times came
the days of mouldy bread and bitter roots
I hungered for the flesh of figs
I thirsted for oranges

I joined a caravan and crossed
the desert on a date hunt
Sand stuck in my throat
A camel’s back
became my home
The hours like ovens round my head
the constellations Scorpio and Crucifix

At daybreak the horizon grew red
with a mirage which would not come closer
Only one oasis gave us shelter
its water smelt of poppies moon and fire
its dates and figs had shrivelled up

Nach Dem Karneval

Nach dem Karneval kamen die Magertage
mit Schimmelbrot und Bitterkraut
Mich hungerte nach Feigenfleisch
mich dürstete nach Apfelsinen

Mit einer Karawane ging ich
durch die Wüste auf Datteljagd
Der Sand stak mir im Hals
Der Rücken des Kamels
war meine Heimat
Die Stunden waren Öfen um die Stirn
die Sterngebilde Kreuz und Skorpion

Am Morgen blühte rot am Horizont
die Fata Morgana die nicht näherkam
Nur einmal nahm uns eine Oase auf
das Wasser roch nach Feuer Mohn und Mond
Feigen und Datteln waren verdorrt

A Day In Exile

A day in exile
a house without doors or windows

Time drawn on a tablet
charcoal
on white

In a chest
the mortal masks
Adam
Abraham
Ahasuerus
Who knows all the names

A day in exile
when the hours stoop
to climb out of the cellar
and into the room

Shadows gathered
round the oil-lamp’s eternal flame
tell their stories
along the walls
with ten dark fingers

Ein Tag Im Exil

Ein Tag im Exil
Haus ohne Türen und Fenster

Auf weiβer Tafel
mit Kohle verzeichnet
die Zeit

Im Kasten
die sterblichen Masken
Adam
Abraham
Ahasver
Wer kennt alle Namen

Ein Tag im Exil
wo die Stunden sich bücken
um aus dem Keller
ins Zimmer zu kommen

Schatten versammelt
um’s Öllicht im ewigen Lämpchen
erzählen ihre Geschichten
mit zehn finstern Fingern
die Wände entlang

When I Have Gone

When I have gone
the sun might burn still

The planets still move
to their own laws
round a centre
no-one knows

The lilac still smell
as sweet
the snow send out its white rays

When I go away
from our forgetful earth
will you speak
my words
a while for me?

Wenn Ich Vergehe

Wenn ich vergehe
wird die Sonne weiter brennen

Die Weltkörper werden sich
bewegen nach ihren Gesetzen
um einen Mittelpunkt
den keiner kennt

Süβ duften wird immer
der Flieder
weiβe Blitze ausstrahlen der Schnee

Wenn ich fortgehe
von unsrer vergeβlichen Erde
wirst du mein Wort
ein Weilchen
für mich sprechen?