Mrs. Manne chinder
every day sin si verby cho bi dÀm fÀld schloofe em morge dead tired at the top
business is all day long in Basel
there het me sy bruucht
but at the top it says use before goal!
wyt isch dr wÀÀg z’fuess zrugg to Alsace in summer when d’sunne schynt
in winter in the snow
i lie on the field on the hill the stroos kei trace me vo dene concern dam lyde
it residential district now recommends d’passante
no hets en acker with hedge and trees
but d’urbanized increases more and more and new blocks of flats grow n-us-em ground
completely taken aback lie d’resident Jew? alley ?
Where’s the name?
(Victor Saudan)
Femmes hommes enfants
chaque jour ils passent prÚs de ce pré endormis le matin épuisés le soir
longue journĂ©e de travail passĂ©e Ă BĂąle oĂč l’on avait besoin d’eux
corn chaque soir c’est hors de la ville !
Ă pied le chemin est long pour rentrer en Alsace l’Ă©tĂ© sous le soleil
l’hiver sous la neige
je regarde le pre la colline la route
aucune trace de ces soucis de cette souffrance
a residential quarter accueille désormais les passants
reste un champs laborĂ© avec haie avec arbres l’urbanisation a pris le dessus
et de nouveaux immeubles d’habitation sortent de la terre
hébétés leurs habitants regardent juifs ? ruelle ?
pourquoi ce nom ?
(Victor Saudan)
Why did we choose this place? He fills me with listlessness. I miss a camping stool. I don’t want to sit on the floor here. Mailboxes are on the street, I see palms of hands in red on them. The sun hits the street and increases its heat, gradually burning into my skin. The street is for cars, they drive up and down constantly.
Now I’m sitting on the step to the entrance of number 42 on the other side of the street. Can you see me? Sitting there reminds me of my childhood, when my stepdad was very young and we hadn’t moved in with him. I sometimes waited for hours on the street in front of our house for him. It looked very similar there and it felt very similar: Rather uncomfortable, concrete and asphalt everywhere, a bit rural, you could hear birds, the forest was close, but above all you could hear and see cars driving by.
I passed the time, the appearance of the cars
define. There were good-natured cars, there were dangerous predatory cars and all possible gradations in between, there were also stupid and characterless cars. The headlights were the eyes, the hoods were the noses. The name of the Jaguar matched the appearance, as did the VW Beetle.
My mother had an orange VW Polo that went into the
Good-natured category, my stepfather had a bronze Porsche Carrera with yellow leather interior. He also had a dachshund. I just loved my stepfather, the dachshund and the Porsche. That’s why I waited
yes so long on the road. I just couldn’t wait for them to arrive. It was clear: The best thing that would drive on this road would stop at my place, park and get out. And so sitting on the street turned into a bath in anticipation.
The fact that the street sign on the concrete wall says “JudengĂ€sslein” is irrelevant in the here and now.
It points to a story that seems to me completely cut off, decoupled from my perception, although I know about the history of the Jews, it cannot be read here. A street name is not enough.
(Mimi von Moss)
judegÀssli
deruff and derab
like threshold d ending zem old man
vo hagahei zem all
(Martin Burr)