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Description
On the Tower
by Annette von Droste-Hülshoff

I’m stood on a balcony high up the tower,
Surrounded by shrieking starlings,
And like a mænad, letting the blast dishevel
My streaming, untidy hair;
O wild fellow, o dare-devil coxcomb,
I’d like to enfold you with gusto,
And, sinew to sinew, two steps from the edge
Then wrestle in mortal combat!

And I see down below, so fresh on the shore
The waves like frisky great hounds
Tumbling around with yelping and hissing,
All shining, the foam-flakes a-flying.
Oh, how I’d like to jump in forthwith,
Right into the blustering pack,
And, through the forest of coral,
Hunt for the walrus, that rollicking booty!

Across the lake, a waving pennant I see
As jaunty as a banner,
See from my airy lookout,
The keel as it bobs up and down;
Oh, I’d like to be aboard a fighting ship,
Take hold of the steering rudder,
And across the surging reef
Streak whizzing like a seagull.

Were I a hunter on open plain,
Or only a bit of soldier,
Were I at least just a man,
Then would Heaven advise me;
Now I must sit here so graceful and proper
The same as a well behaved child,
And may loosen my hair but in secret,
And in the wind let it flutter!

--
Acryl on canvas, 50x70

Description
On the Tower
by Annette von Droste-Hülshoff

I’m stood on a balcony high up the tower,
Surrounded by shrieking starlings,
And like a mænad, letting the blast dishevel
My streaming, untidy hair;
O wild fellow, o dare-devil coxcomb,
I’d like to enfold you with gusto,
And, sinew to sinew, two steps from the edge
Then wrestle in mortal combat!

And I see down below, so fresh on the shore
The waves like frisky great hounds
Tumbling around with yelping and hissing,
All shining, the foam-flakes a-flying.
Oh, how I’d like to jump in forthwith,
Right into the blustering pack,
And, through the forest of coral,
Hunt for the walrus, that rollicking booty!

Across the lake, a waving pennant I see
As jaunty as a banner,
See from my airy lookout,
The keel as it bobs up and down;
Oh, I’d like to be aboard a fighting ship,
Take hold of the steering rudder,
And across the surging reef
Streak whizzing like a seagull.

Were I a hunter on open plain,
Or only a bit of soldier,
Were I at least just a man,
Then would Heaven advise me;
Now I must sit here so graceful and proper
The same as a well behaved child,
And may loosen my hair but in secret,
And in the wind let it flutter!

--
Acryl on canvas, 50x70