Mutterkuchen

Does your daughter suffer from a lack of humour?
Make fun of it!

Does your daughter suffer from a bleeding heart?
Stop with the theatrics finally!

Does your daughter suffer from a burning heart?
Sometimes a sacrifice of smoke can help!

Does your daughter suffer from big dogs?
Offer her a cat!

Does your daughter suffer from from freezing?
Put your warm clothes on!

Does your daughter suffer from all hopes dashed?
Burn all the bridges!

Does your daughter suffer from onanism?
Leave her to her father!

Does your daughter suffer from delusions of grandeur?
Saw off her crown!

Does your daughter suffer from being let her down?
Farewell!
Take the receiver from her!

Does your daughter suffer from frailty
Try and lament for her! You will survive her.

Does your daughter suffer from being sawn up?
Canonise her as long as she is a virgin!

I didn’t always sit like this!
Hold on!

Guck!
In former times there was a cosmos. Not cosmetic. Not cosmopolitan. Cosmos.

That is Marian La Luna, author of herself.
The triviality of my being.

Doesn’t she want to be possessed by somoeone?
Hey, Marian, time for a refreshment!
But not intrasubjective again!

Here comes the sun in my megahearts?
Let’s call a spade a spade and a wild animal a wild animal, then it belongs to us.
Is it life? Love?
I am going to tidy up your garden, snake!

God shat on me!
It looks like this maze of god is a cul-de-sac!

Title: Roses
The man who loves me…
He has good bearing.
His mother idolises him.

He idolises me.
He has wonderful hair.
He wants to have three children with me.
He doesn’t smoke.

He brings me roses every day.
He consumes my time.
My room.
I pine away for wild peace. Fin.

Title: No roses
[Names of plants]
That is Christiane B.’s garden.
That’s me
The man how loves me…
The knot-grass, the knot-grass, He is a repulsive creature!

[Stuff missing, like the knot-grass section above]
Wasn’t so nice, eh?
His mother never sang lullabies.
He is married to his wife.
He is already losing his hair.

[More stuff missing]
He has five children.
He is getting himself a drink now.
Without, I can’t take it anymore.

He often goes to prostitutes
But in fact he wants to have sex with men.
Doesn’t say much for me?
No, not the end! Next time, when such a thorny bloke has the main part, I’m not playing anymore.

Life Imprisonment

Come on, jump!

[Nothing in English]

What are you doing there?
I have a struggle with my own life.

You’re laughing?
But this isn’t funny!
But it wasn’t meant this serious.
Page 31-2
Deeper, deeper somewhere in the depth is a light

Like a duckling: to follow whatever it sees first of the world.
What’s up with you?
She’s not my type.
But she loves you.
She doesn’t suit me.

She’s not sitting right.

She simply doesn’t go.

Therefore, we let her fall.

Excuse me, what’s on the other side?
Nothing. Or everything. Whatever you want.

But you can see the other side.
Yes, sure my child. Somebody have always to see both sides. I’m here… and there.
The important thing with it is: not… to… be… seen… ach…

Now he is there.
Finally… a gate.

I am too tall for this gate.

It leads to a garden and what a beautiful light. I’d like to go there.

I reckon. You’ve got what I need: greatness!
Drain to the dregs. We’ll make you feel small!

[No dialogue]

[No dialogue]

[No dialogue]

[No dialogue]

Who are you?
Who are you?

I am what I am.
Me too: I am what I am.

We are.
Let’s leave this forest. Then we’ll know who we are!

This is me, yes.
A monster! Similar to a rabbit!

Quiet please! You wake the king, he’s dreaming!
And guess of whom?

Nobody would know that!
Of you!
And guess where you’ll be, when he wakes up?

Well, here we are right now.
Hey, I think, we’re close to home!
Oh no, you’ll be nowhere. If the king wakes up, you’ll burn out like a flame.

I’m growing
Me too. I’m growing.
Dodgson is dreaming!
It’s his dream. I was in the wrong dream.

[Title not translated]

The Birth of Helvetia
A Taurus was in Europe
Bright… Ache… Well!
Movement, shifts, and metamorphoses

My watercastle, my heartland
Ice Age
I am Helvetia, author of myself.
Self Government
This is all for your freedom, Helvetia
The tempestuous mountain people

A comforting noise
Going home [“homesick”?]
Come, oh come in my parlour
Hospitality – elementary gift of women
She is still without a voice, but somebody came and gave her chocolate
Tunnel Building

and made her flat
Bank Secret
The dress is too tiny
Birth of the helvetia

Night on Bärmi and Klett

I am there for you. Nothing will happen to you. It was just a dream. Everything will be OK.

Do they also eat people?
No, only the yellow tigers do.
END
Translated carefully, thoughtfully, clever and with joy by Matthew Wing & Anke Eickhoff. Good things take their time.