Onwards - Robert Walser

Onwards

I wanted to stand still,
I urged myself further,
past black trees,
but beneath black trees,
I wanted to suddenly stand still,
I urged myself further,
past green meadows,
but next to those green meadows,
I only wanted to stand still,
I urged myself further,
past needy little cottages,
beside one of those cottages,
I really wanted to stand still,
regarding its need,
and how the smoke gently
rises into the sky, I would
like to stand still now awhile.
That’s what I said and laughed,
the green of the meadows laughed,
the smoke rose smiling like smoke,
I urged myself further.

Ron Slate from ON THE SEAWALL - https://www.ronslate.com/ wrote Admired by the likes of Kafka, Musil, and Walter Benjamin, and acclaimed “unforgettable, heart-rending” by J. M. Coetzee, Swiss writer Robert Walser (1878-1956) remains one of the most influential authors of modern literature. Walser left school at fourteen and led a wandering, precarious existence while producing poems, stories, essays, and novels. In 1933, he abandoned writing and entered a sanatorium, where he remained for the rest of his life. “I am not here to write,” he said, “but to be mad.

"What time is it? Already three? Come on, hurry, hurry." Der Teich, 1902

Walser enjoyed long walks alone. On 25 December 1956 he was found, dead of a heart attack, in a field of snow near his asylum. The photographs of the dead Walser in the snow are reminiscent of a similar image of a dead man in the snow in his first novel, Geschwister Tanner.