20 Nov 2011

Thanks to our reader Juliane Schicker, we finally have it all in English:

 

The poet speaks

 

This time in prose. Klaus Wallendorf, our philharmonic house poet, has some thoughts about the tour:

 

Dear Blog. I have to apologize for joining the discussion so late, but because Christiane, my wife, is not with me on this trip, I practically did not experience anything.

 

In every city, my favorite hiking track goes from the night stand to the bathroom sink, then over to the dressing rooms—also passing the self-catering stand—desk, walk-in closet, that’s it.

In Peking, Huang invited me to eat Szechuan with him, and he told me that Martin Walser goes to Coburg occasionally.

 

For a short time, I was in the gardens of the Forbidden City and wanted to take pictures of spittoons, but there were almost none left. In 1980, the city was full of them. They vanished with the bikes.

 

I took care of remaining correspondences when I was in Shanghai. Uncle Jochen in Gersbach has been waiting for my answer since last summer; it’s about Elfriede Schnock’s 80th birthday. But that actually doesn’t belong here.

 

In Seoul, I had a beautiful room with park view. But I only left it twice to walk by the Hunang River that was framed on both sides with trees made from speakers—they certainly grew out of post war times. But at least you are never really alone with them.

 

 

 

In Tei P, I wanted to go to the zoo. But I didn’t find the train station immediately. The bus No. 611 was too crowded for me, so that’s why I decided to rather go to an exhibition of Buddhist relics, where I also donated 100 currency units for the improvement of my karma. But so far, I haven’t noticed anything. How can you actually tell how your karma is developing? That would be a neat topic for a horn evening.

There is not much to be said about the concerts, either. We come on stage, the people applaud, we play, the people applaud, we leave the stage.

 

During the horn concert in Hosokawa, where I will play an echo-like distant horn in the middle of the audience, I will come very close to the people—“a bath in the crowd,” so to say. But of course, understanding each other suffers from the language barrier that can hardly be overcome with our own means, here in the Far East.

 

During the Bruckner Symphony, I recently already breathe two measures before the letter G, but that’s actually more for insiders anyways.

 

In Tokyo, I am looking forward to the stationary store Itoya, where you can buy the most durable paper-clips and incredibly beautiful cat-calendars. I also need new pens, and im sure, there will be great arts and crafts things for Jacob. Early stages of Ikebana made from crepe paper for example—one of the few words with three P in German. Oh well, then my meal with Miyashitas and Taguchis, a song evening at Oji Hall—this time, Kuniko will be singing “You are Orplid, my country,” and that will already be it. Bye, see you next time.

 

P.S.: Lufthansa’s flight was really great again.