time for a poem

Post photo: Enjoying coffee | © Pixabay

For a moment I thought about whether I should write about the recent excitement about my visit to the Stadtbad, or even about the fact that the fish stinks on the head first, as is well known, as can be observed very well not only in Heilbronn but also in Berlin, right about the fact that US Republicans can no longer even elect a Speaker of the United States House of Representatives — fundamental democratic principles are obviously no longer in place there, but then I decided to just share a poem today that I However, I have liked it for a long time and which I have never shared, at least here on this blog.

This poem is from Carl Buses, who, as a Berliner, is certainly rolling in his grave wildly about the conditions there, and is interestingly still very popular in Japan today. Busse died in 1918 at the age of 46 from the Spanish flu, which, as we know since COVID-19, should no longer be called that. From 1916 he took an active part in the First World War and was honored for it; Back then, shirking and desertion were not yet an essential part of Berlin's chic crowd.

Carl Buses received his doctorate in 1898 with a thesis on Novalis's poetry and consequently became a writer and critic. But now to today's poem.

Uber den Bergen

Over the mountains, far to roam,
People say that luck lives
Oh and I walked in the swarm of the others,
Came back with tears in her eyes.
Over the mountains, far, far over there,
People say that luck resides...

As I found out much later, I was Carl Buses already known from my earliest youth, because my father used to sing the following little lullaby for us in the evenings.


Sum, sum, the sandman goes, oh how dark, oh how late, how late!
Step into every child's house, scatter the silent grains. –
Sum, sum, the sandman goes, come and say your night prayer:
Dear God, make me pious that I go to heaven!

This song was probably already sung to my father by one of his grandmothers, who already knew this song from their own mother's days.

Who more of Carl Buses want to experience, I recommend Juliana Redlichs book "The forgotten opinion leader: Carl Busse (1872-1918) writer, literary critic, publicist(2021).

And while I'm at it, then Mister Sandman, who in a song 1954 by Pat Ballard was created and made world famous by the Chordettes.

The Chordettes, Mr Sandman (1954)

And that probably says everything about the Sandman. And which of the three Sandmen, the one of ETA Hoffman, from Hans Christian Andersen or even that of Pat Ballard You prefer yourself, that is up to you.