The wind will carry us – Le vent nous portera – Der Wind wird uns tragen

 The windso neither tempest nor hurricane, but it is the wind, and only the wind, that carries. “The wind will carry us.” “Le vent nous portera.” “Der Wind wird uns tragen.”—The wish of a man shifting for himself or herself.


 In rhythmical silence the wind lets itself be felt, yet doesn’t show itself. We are looking at an unseen face that wears no mask.Intimacy. In that empty stage the hand of a marionette dips and uplifts you into the twilight zone of anticyclone and low-pressure area.Obscure, sought community.


 In the day-time we celebrate together the funeral luncheon, in the evening together we exuberantly celebrate the wedding. Maybe then, being outside open to the wind, one is like the Hungarian country girl Estike? Playing alone outside. Walking into darkness after being severely betrayed by a friend. Out of this night through light ablaze windows she views the sátántangó of drunken, testy farmers.Poison.


 At an early passage of the New Testament it is written, that the Holy Ghost blows wherever he wills. (Believing like a child.) At another, later, that we should not be like blades of grass wobbling in the wind. (Believing like a child?) Thus, there the wind blows in faith and doubt.


 The blowing wind inside of me, me the wind,* a portrait of lightness, uproots me, dissolves the boundaries of me, near to disintegration.


 The carrying wind is the shielding and upholding wind, the blowing off and and blowing away wind.

~ ~ ~

(for lyrics and translation see comments)


De profundis

Es ist ein Stoppelfeld, in das ein schwarzer Regen fällt.

Es ist ein brauner Baum, der einsam dasteht.

Es ist ein Zischelwind, der leere Hütten umkreist.

Wie traurig dieser Abend.


Am Weiler vorbei

Sammelt die sanfte Waise noch spärliche Ähren ein.

Ihre Augen weiden rund und goldig in der Dämmerung

Und ihr Schoß harrt des himmlischen Bräutigams.


Bei der Heimkehr

Fanden die Hirten den süßen Leib

Verwest im Dornenbusch.


Ein Schatten bin ich ferne finsteren Dörfern.

Gottes Schweigen

Trank ich aus dem Brunnen des Hains.


Auf meine Stirne tritt kaltes Metall

Spinnen suchen mein Herz.

Es ist ein Licht, das in meinem Mund erlöscht.


Nachts fand ich mich auf einer Heide,

Starrend von Unrat und Staub der Sterne.

Im Haselgebüsch

Klangen wieder kristallne Engel.


by Georg Trakl

(for translation see comments)



(just in case you should have too much time…)


Maybe I’m a cockoo’s chicken?

8 responses to “The wind will carry us – Le vent nous portera – Der Wind wird uns tragen

  1. Noir Désir, “Le vent nous portera”

    Je n’ai pas peur de la route
    Faudrait voir, faut qu’on y goûte
    Des méandres au creux des reins
    Et tout ira bien

    Le vent nous portera

    Ton message à la grande ourse
    Et la trajectoire de la course
    A l’instantané de velours
    Même s’il ne sert à rien

    Le vent l’emportera
    Tout disparaîtra
    Le vent nous portera

    La caresse et la mitraille
    Cette plaie qui nous tiraille
    Le palais des autres jours
    D’hier et demain

    Le vent les portera

    Génétique en bandoulière
    Des chromosomes dans l’atmosphère
    Des taxis pour les galaxies
    Et mon tapis volant dis

    Le vent l’emportera
    Tout disparaîtra
    Le vent nous portera

    Ce parfum de nos années mortes
    Ceux qui peuvent frapper à ta porte
    Infinité de destins
    On en pose un, qu’est-ce qu’on en retient?

    Le vent l’emportera

    Pendant que la marée monte
    Et que chacun refait ses comptes
    J’emmène au creux de mon ombre
    Des poussières de toi

    Le vent l’emportera
    Tout disparaîtra
    Le vent nous portera

    (via (translation still needs some time, and help 😉 )

  2. De profundis

    It is a stubble field, in which a black rain falls.
    It’s a brown tree, that stands alone there.
    It’s a hissing wind, that circles empty huts.
    How sad this evening.

    Past the hamlet
    The soft orphan still gathers sparse ears of corn.
    Her eyes graze round and golden in the dusk
    And her womb awaits the heavenly bridegroom.

    On the way home
    Shepherds found the sweet body
    Putrefied in the thorn bush.

    I am a shadow far from sinister villages.
    I drank God’s silence
    From the fountain in the grove.

    Upon my forehead cold metal steps
    Spiders seek my heart.
    It is a light that extinguishes in my mouth.

    At night I found myself on a heath
    Covered with rubbish and the dust of stars.
    In the hazel bush
    Crystal angels sounded once more.

    by Georg Trakl


  3. hello, J.A.

    i’ve only seen the first video and it’s quite beautiful but sad… i’ll finish the next vid over the weekend. it’s very interesting but long, haha…

    i am very touched with the sentence – The wind will carry us… 🙂

    • you have too much time!? 😀 let me know what you think about it, if you should watch it. but don’t feel forced to, even not by your announcement. 😀 Kiarostami is a director I really admire. nothing happens, and that’s why so much. 😉

      • hi, J.A. , it turned out i didn’t get the time, dang! i would want another hassle-free and relaxed weekend so i can sit back and go over your posts that i enjoyed. am afraid that isn’t coming in the next days but i wish you well and hoping you’re on a shake, good shake – my dear, haha. regards. 😉

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