Im Englischen heisst es doch immer so schön, “Home is where the Heart is”. Jedoch ist es oft nicht ganz so einfach. Es gibt viele Elemente und Aspekte, welche ein Zuhause bilden; Familie, Häuser, Landschaft, Kultur, Tradition… Das sind nur wenige Beispiele dafür.
Es ist auch aus diesem Grund, weshalb es für Künstler oder Autoren schwierig ist Heimat in einer Kunstform zu verkörpern. Jedoch haben Selina Chönz und Alois Carigiet es erfolgreich geschafft dem Leser das Engadin zu überliefern.
Ich habe mir erlaubt selbst diese Kunst auszuprobieren. Während dieser Versuch das Heimatgefühl zu verkörpern weit weg von dem Niveau von Kinderbüchern wie “Schellenursli” ist, zeigt das folgende englische Gedicht die verschiednen Formen und Facetten, welche das Engadin annehmen kann.
La Matta cun al Muntanellas
She left behind the cold of snow
To shield the green of light.
The mountains missing beauty true
With her now out of sight.
The summer was a scene of art
With Edelweiss and sky
With golden sun surrounding you
The cattle took him high.
The shepherd was a handsome man
Who looked for his brown cows.
With clattering bells and humming bees
He lived with nature’s sounds.
With nature being all he knew
A gift was brought to him:
It came with eyes so pine-tree green,
Her splendor was a sin.
Her spell did reach beyond the man,
The songs of mountains paused.
No marmots, stags or ibex moved
Transfixed by spells she caused.
The marmots stopped to dig and hide
But let her feed them bread
They danced around and climbed her back
‘Til they were up her head.
Her little laugh and loving smile
Possessed the shepherd’s heart,
For she was charming and delight
He had no words to start
To say how she took him possessed,
His heart belonged to her.
Instead he took her hand and kissed
Red lips it felt so sure.
They spent the day within the green
While marmots stayed and played
But night arrived and depart was time
They watched the bright sky fade.
“Tomorrow you will see me dear”
she said and kissed goodbye.
Descending down Pontresina
Her hums a lullaby.
The night was harsh and cold as ice,
The summer snow was strong.
The shepherd lay between the cows
To shield him for so long.
The endless night came to an end
The sun kissed him awake.
The endless white was sparkling
The cows gave bells a shake.
The melting snow was dripping down
The shepherds hair and nose.
He smiled at splendor of the day
His matta should be close.
But where she went he never knew
For she had gone away
And marmots must have followed her
None here until this day.
The shepherd never found his love
Or the muntanellas,
He gave up hope and took his cows
Up to the Furtschellas.