Die Dschungel. Anderswelt.: GIACOMO.JOYCE

GIACOMO.JOYCE

The plunging gloom has fallen. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (47).

A soft crumbled peagreen cover drapes the lounge. A narrow Parisian room. The hairdresser lay here but now. I kissed her stocking and the hem of her rustblack dusty skirt. It is the other. She. Gogarty came yesterday to be introduced. Ulysses is the reason. Symbol of the intellectual conscience …. Ireland then? And the husband? Pacing the corridor in list shoes or playing chess against himself? The hairdresser lay here but now, clutching my head between her knobby knees …. Intellectual symbol of my race. Listen! The plunging ~~room~~* gloom has fallen. Listen!

_{[*: Siehe >>>> dort.]}

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 48}
_{Giacomo Joyce 46 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Mittwoch, 3. Oktober 2012, 09:43- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Liquorish Venom. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (46).

The spread under my feet carpets for the son of man, They await my passing. She stands in the yellow shadow of the hall, a plaid cloak shielding from chills her sinking shoulders; and as I halt in wonder and look about me she greets me wintrily and passes up the staircase darting at me for an instant out of her sluggish sidelong eyes a jet of liquorish venom.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 47}
_{Giacomo Joyce 45 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Dienstag, 2. Oktober 2012, 10:39- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Thank you for the Word. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (45).

As I come out of Ralli‘s house I come upon her suddenly as we both are giving alms to a blind beggar. She answers my sudden greeting by turning and averting her black basilisk eyes. E col suo vedere attosca l‘uomo quando lo vede. I thank you for the word, messer Brunetto.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 46}
_{Giacomo Joyce 44 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Montag, 1. Oktober 2012, 17:22- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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In the Echoes of its Words. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (44).

My voice, dying in the echoes of its words, dies like the wisdom-wearied voice of the Eternal calling on Abraham through echoing hills. She leans back against the pillowed wall: odalisque-featured in the luxurious obscurity. Her eyes have drunk my thoughts: and into the moist warm yielding welcoming darkness of her womanhood my soul, itself dissolving, has streamed and poured and flooded a liquid and abundant seed …... Take her now who will!....

_{Giacomo Joyce 43 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Sonntag, 30. September 2012, 11:08- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Kissed. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (43).

Whirling wreaths of grey vapour upon the heath. Her face, how grey and grave! Dank matted hair. Her lips press softly, her sighing breath comes through. Kissed.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 44}
_{Giacomo Joyce 42 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Samstag, 29. September 2012, 10:53- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Her Body Has no Smell. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (42).

Her body has no smell: an odourless flower.
On the stairs. A cold frail hand: shyness, silence: dark languor-flooded eyes: weariness.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 43}
_{Giacomo Joyce 41 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Freitag, 28. September 2012, 14:30- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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These Quiet Cold Fingers. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (41).

These quiet cold fingers have touched the pages, foul and fair, on which my shame shall glow for ever. Quiet and cold and pure fingers. Have they never erred?

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 42}
_{Giacomo Joyce 40 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Donnerstag, 27. September 2012, 10:59- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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My Words in her Mind. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (40).

My Words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 41}
_{Giacomo Joyce 39 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Mittwoch, 26. September 2012, 10:23- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Loggione. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (39).

Loggione. The sodden walls ooze a steamy damp. A symphony of small fuses the mass of huddled human forms: sour reek of armpits, nozzled oranges, melting breast ointments, mastick water, the breath of suppers of sulphurous garlic, foul phosphorescent farts, opoponax, the frank sweat of marriageable and married womankind, the soapy stink of man ….. All night I have watched her, all night I shall see her: braided and pinnacled hair and olive oval face and calm soft eyes. A green fillet upon her hair and about her body a green-broidered gown: the hue of the illusion of the vegetable glass of nature and of lush grass, the hair of graves.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 40}
_{Giacomo Joyce 38 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Dienstag, 25. September 2012, 13:31- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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Black-robed at the Telephone. James Joyce: Giacomo Joyce. Die Neuübersetzung (38).

She stands black-robed at the telephone. Little timid laughs, little cries, timid runs of speech suddenly broken … Parlerò colla mamma … Come! chook, chook! come! The black pullet is frightened: little runs suddenly broken, little timid cries: it is crying for its mamma, the portly hen.

_{>>>> Giacomo Joyce 39}
_{Giacomo Joyce 37 <<<<}
_{Editorial <<<<}

albannikolaiherbst - Montag, 24. September 2012, 07:21- Rubrik: GIACOMO.JOYCE

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