With thanks to Historian, Writer and Poet AC Benus
for discovering and researching this poet and for translating the poem for us
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| Paul Zech 1914 |
It is difficult to be precise about Paul Zech's life as there are several sites with biographies of Zech but it seems he did a variety of different jobs, including a warehouse clerk and confectioner. He may have done an apprenticeship as a baker. From around 1904, had poems published in local publications wherever he lived and in 1907 was invited to the annual poetry competition "Kölner Blumenspiele", where he received an "honourable mention".
At the beginning of the First World War, Zech wrote patriotic poems. However, in 1915, his enthusiasm for the war began to wane and gave way to skepticism. He served on the Western Front, notably in the Battle of Verdun and the Battle of the Somme. In a letter to the Austrian writer Stefan Zweig, he wrote:
" My dear friend,
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| "Battle of the Somme" by Richard Caton Woodville (1856 - 1927) |
I would never have believed that there could still be something that surpasses the hell of Verdun. There, I suffered horribly. Now that it's over, I can say it. But that was not enough: now we have been sent to the Somme. And here everything is taken to its extreme point: hatred, dehumanization, horror and blood. (…) I no longer know what can still happen to us, I wanted to greet you once again. Maybe it's the last. "
In August 1933, suspected of embezzlement and theft, Zech left Berlin for Vienna and Trieste and sailed to Montevideo, Buenos Aires, where he died in 1946.
An example of Paul Zech's poetry:
Nächtliche Dörfer in der Woevre
(Frühsommer 1916)
II.
Das nesse Laub im Mond wird weißer Mohn.
Unruhig feilen Stürme in den Zweigen,
aus daß sie sich wie Flügel niederneigen.
Die Häuserfronten sind entschlafen schon.
Die Wohner aber finden noch nicht Ruh‘;
in Augen, müd zurüchgedreht nach innen,
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| WW1 postcard |
nistet ein schwarzer Traum, beginnt zu spinnen
und schnürt dem Schrei des Bluts die Kehle zu.
Verschlafen kräht der Hahn und kräht sich wach,
Angstaugen wach zersprungenen Fensterscheiben,
wenn der Haubitzen-Donner Ziegel fegt vom Dach.
Herzruhig nur die fremden Mütter bleiben;
rosige Kinder lächeln noch im Traum —
Nachglanz von Sonne, Bach und Apfelbaum.
Translated by AC Benus
Nocturnal villages in the Woevre [Woëvre in French – is an area in Lorraine, North-west France]
(early summer 1916)
II.
Wet leaves in the moonlight turn to white poppies.
Turbulent storms file and march through the branches,
so they bend towards earth like the tip of wings.
The house fronts have all fallen into slumber.
But dwellers inside can yet find them no rest;
in their eyes, wearily turned back inwardly,
a black dream is nesting, which begins to spin
and lace itself round the throat with screams of blood.
Sleepy crows the cock as crows awake themselves,
angst-eyes opened with the shattered windowpanes
when Howitzers thunder-sweep tiles from the roof.
Only oddly inured mothers remain calm;
their rosy-cheeked children still smiling in dreams —
the afterglow of sun, stream and apple trees.
(p. 93 “Golgotha Eine Beschwörung zwischen zwei Feuern” by Paul Zech (Hoffmann und Campe Verlag, Berlin, 1920)
https://archive.org/details/3361450/page/93/mode/2up
.jpeg) |
| Paul Zech by German artist Ludwig Meidner (1884 - 1966) |
AC Benus explains further -- Important war-related texts by Paul Zech (according to Wiki):
"Vor Cressy an der Marne: Gedichte eines Frontsoldaten" ["Before Cressy on the Marne: Poems of a Front-line Soldier"] (1918), under pen name Michel Michael
"Das Grab der Welt: Eine Passion wider den Krieg" ["The Grave of the World: A Passion Against War"] (1919) -- described as entries from his war diaries
Zech was also represented by 12 poems in an important WW1 anthology "Menschheitsdämmerung" ["Dawn of Humanity" - K. Pinthus, editor] (1920) https://archive.org/details/menschheitsdmm00pintuoft/page/n5/mode/2up
"Die Reise um den Kummerberg" ["The Trip Around the Kummerberg"] (1925) - autobiographical novel, including his war experiences
Additional Sources:
https://de-m-wikipedia-org.translate.goog/wiki/Paul_Zech?_x_tr_sl=auto&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=wapp
https://www.friedenau-aktuell.de/friedhof-stubenrauchstra%C3%9Fe/paul-zech/
AC Benus is the author of a marvellous book about German WW1 poet Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele : “The Thousandth Regiment: A Translation of and Commentary on Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele’s War Poems” by AC Benus (AC Benus, San Francisco, 2020). Along with Hans's story, the book includes original poems as well as translations. ISBN: 978-1657220584 https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1657220583
AC Benus says: "Paul Zech and Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele were close friends and colleagues, co-founding and co-editing the literary and art journal "Das neue Pathos" before the war.
It's interesting, Lucy, you cite a letter from Zech to Stefan Zweig, as he was also involved with "Das neue Pathos," writing the essay that launched the premier issue of the magazine. Afterwards, it was much reprinted and regarded as an articulate manifesto on the entire German Expressionist Art Movement.
After Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele was killed in action in July 1915, Zech -- like all of Hans' closest friends and family -- took his passing hard. When Hans' partner, F. W. Murnau, broke his malaise by vowing to publish his beloved's final collection of poems in 1917, which included Hans' war sonnets, "The Thousand Regiment," Murnau called on Zech to write the introduction to the book. Which he did, and which provides great insight to the mind of the young, slain poet.
Zech himself grieved for Hans in print. In the post-war years, he published moving tribute poems to Ehrenbaum-Degele, and his 1920 "Golgatha" contains no less than four! No doubt more wait to be uncovered in Zech's prolific output. (So if you run into any, please let me know!)"
Here is one of the poems written by Paul Zech to the memory of his friend Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele
Du aber stöhnst . . . . .
(In memoriam Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele. Gefallen als Leutnant des R. I. R. 90
am 26. [sic] Juli 1915 beim Üebergang über den Narew.)
Daß Straßen mit Musik und Gang von Frauen
herznahe wiederkehren unserm Blut;
daß wir, wie Hände weiß und ausgeruht,
uns dehnen werden wieder aufzubauen;
daß ich noch bin — traf Dich das wilde Eisen,
Dich, Jahre mir zur Sehe, Kamerad.
Nie trug ein aufgebrochner Acker solche Saat,
saftseufzend durch Aeonen noch zu kreisen.
Die Meise schüchtern auf zerschundenem Baum,
verwaiste Jugend, Mütter schwarz im Schmerzgeschmeide
umfriedet schon ein Hauch von Heimat-Traum.
Du aber stöhnst, da neuer Lenz beginnt,
dumpf durch den hohlen Silbermund der Weide
Dein frierendes Allein Gestirn und taubem Wind.
Translation by AC Benus
You yet breathe . . . . .
(In memoriam Hans Ehrenbaum-Degele.Killed in action as Lieutenant of the R[eserves],
90th I[nfantry] R[everses], on the [27th] of July,1915, crossing over the Narew.)
Those streets with music and the sway of women
Kept close to our hearts will have blood return;
so that to us, hands porcelain and relaxed
will stretch to guide as we start to rebuild;
or I yet have life — though wild iron mowed you down,
You, after years of being close to me, friend.
Never have tilled-under fields carried such seed,
a sighing force to circle beneath eons.
The chicks are frightened on the shattered trees,
the orphaned young, mothers blackened in pain
encased now in a wisp of heavenly dreams.
But you will breathe again as a new spring comes,
muffled through the willow’s hollow silver mouth
with your bright star alone above the wind.
NOTE: The Narew is a 499-kilometre (310 miles) river that rises in north-east Poland - it is also a tributary of the River Vistula. The Narew is one of Europe's few 'braided' rivers, the term relating to the twisted channels resembling braided hair. Around 57 kilometres (35 miles) of the river flows through western Belarus.
