MAYDAY

Brimstone Butterfly in April by Eduard Mörike (translated by Maggie Roseneau)

Contributed By: ,

Cruel sun of springtime,
your waking is impetuous,
Only in the joy of May
thrives tender fare of mine!

There is no dear young girl
who, from her rosy lip,
offers me a honey drip,
so miserably I wane
and May will never see me
in my yellow dress.

Citronenfalter im April

Grausame Frühlingssonne,
du weckst mich vor der Zeit,
dem nur in Maienwonne
die zarte Kost gedeiht!

Ist nicht ein liebes Mädchen hier,
das auf der Rosenlippe mir
ein Tröpfchen Honig beut,
so muß ich jämmerlich vergehn
und wird der Mai mich nimmer sehn
in meinem gelben Kleid.

Return to table of contents for Issue 6 Fall 2012

Further Reading

WATCHING MY MOTHER BAKE
by Michael Meyerhofer

Strangest of all was the knife, how gingerly she pushed it through    the soft raw crust of the pie  freshly-formed on the oven’s surface,   preheat already rising in waves,  her glance warning me not to touch—   the same woman who decided, a week before my seventh birthday,   to have me circumcised […]

FLAVAMERICA: an excerpt from Stephan Clark’s unfinished novel, The Flavorist

Location: Battle Station, New Jersey Date: April 24, 1999 The week my anxiety medication started to work, I was in my office at the computer, working on an invoice for a company that promises its customers “a cappuccino machine in every can.” Sales had been down six quarters in a row. We’d been asked to […]

The Cousin’s Secret
by Lindsay Wilson

This poem was nominated for The Best of the Net and was selected as a finalist for the 2021 MAYDAY Poetry Prize.   When her eldest son died, her youngest and I placed two fighting beta fish into the small pond by the front door.   You need to understand how much they were promised. […]

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