Die gebürtige Australierin und in Wien lebende Cellistin Melissa Coleman war von ihrem Aufenthalt im Walsertal und der beeindruckenden Berglandschaft so inspiriert, daß sie im Railjet in Richtung Osten diese Zeilen aus der Feder gezaubert hat.

Marul Poem

The baroness of Marul

wears a lavish green dress

of vivid velvet,

adorned with dark berries

and thick layers of silver thistle.

Her heavy petticoats,

sway and fold 

in shimmering ripples 

and slow waves.              

Her breath is deep and fragrant.

Only the sun,

knows the contours of her face.

Her arms spread open

to embrace, 

those who seek her company. 

At dusk, her chambers darken   

and she gathers pearls and blankets 

and a pillow to sleep,

while a distant army 

unites.

Giacometti warriors,

guardians of the night,

emerge 

from a whisper,

In the language of shadows,

they weave strange patterns 

into wood 

and rock 

and children’s dreams.

Proud and fearless fleet,

with metal bones, 

dark as ink.

From the highest peaks,

they plunge,

like bullets crashing wildly                                                                                                               

in the womb of the nest, 

The quiet village,          

where all secrets 

accumulate

and are kept safely 

in random wooden houses.

When the church bells toll,

the eccentric priest,

searches for an answer.

He cannot find his key,

nor words of comfort.                          

A sleek black crow,

always curious,

perches on the roof,

enthralled by the solitary tone 

of a solo cello.

Melissa Coleman, 06.09.2021