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.