Luxembourg

On 23 June Luxembourg celebrates its national day—the Grand Duke’s Birthday. But though there have been a few Grand Dukes of Luxembourg, confusingly none of their birthdays have ever fallen on that day. That’s okay though—nations can celebrate their nationhood with whatever name they please as far as I’m concerned, and the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg is no exception. A small landlocked country between France, Germany and Belgium I feel like Luxembourg sometimes gets forgotten (though not so often as Liechtenstein might…) so let’s remedy that here. I once formulated the plan to walk across Luxembourg (about 80 kilometres I believe) but I haven’t got to it yet. One day, I’m sure… Oh, and to match nearby Switzerland, Luxembourg is trilingual, speaking French, German and Luxembourgish.

Luxembourg has a long history—going back to 963 with the acquisition of Luxembourg Castle, then known as Lucilinburhuc, by Siegfried, Count of Ardennes. With the news that the recorded history of any country starts with a man named Siegfried, I am perhaps unreasonably happy! Anyway, a town developed around the fort, which in turn became the centre of a small state.

In 1437, with the lack of a male heir causing a crisis in the question of succession, Luxembourg was sold to Philip the Good of Burgundy. I’m thinking Philip the Good got a good deal. Following this, Luxembourg’s fortress continued to enlarge, and had a number of different occupants—Bourbons, Habsburgs, Hohenzollerns (from Germany, Prussia and Romania, if, like me, you didn’t already know about the Hohenzollerns) and the French. When Napoleon was defeated, Luxembourg was a matter of dispute between Prussia and the Netherlands. It seems Luxembourg had it both ways—they became a Grand Duchy with a personal union with the Netherlands, and also became a member of the German Confederation. With the Treaty of Paris they were independent of France.

When the Belgian Revolution occurred (1830-1839, again for those of you not already in the know) Luxembourg lost about half of its territory to that nation. In 1839, the first Treaty of London affirmed Luxembourg’s independence; 28 years later this was reaffirmed by the Second Treaty of London.

Despite these affirmations of independence, the King of the Netherlands was still the head of the state until 1890. When William III of the Netherlands died, Luxembourg passed to Adolph of Nassau-Weilburg.

Luxembourg, by the way, it one of the founding member-nations of what is now the European Union. Oh, and they have a very small army—around 800 people.

Today’s poem comes from New European Poets, and was written by Jean Portante. It was translated by Pierre Joris, himself a very interesting (and highly recommended) poet. It’s from a longer work—“The Desert.”

from The Desert

    The Desert counted its wrinkles;
        the eagle and the falcon immediately spread the news.
         —Edmond Jabès

it is due to the general indifference of
the grains of sand
that the desert came about
but also because the sand
knew how to remain gregarious

—

to know that all the grains of sand
of all the deserts sleep in me
does not reassure me
like them every night
I get under way
searching for a dry dream
a dream which in order to defend us
would brace the meanders of humidity

—

I went to station myself
on the line separating one desert from the other
to watch the grains of sand
getting married in secret
before crossing the border

—

when I said I had the desert in me
I was thinking less of the dryness
than of the incessant swarming of the sand
and caught in the swirl
I stopped weeping
even though I had been weeping for joy

—

each desert hides a secret
each secret hides and injustice
nobody knows who slipped it in there
but it makes everybody rejoice secretly

—

I’ve read somewhere or did I dream it
that the desert was the scar a sea left
oh what anguish to think
that one day the wound could open again

—

in my childhood my youth my life for short
I have known many a gathering of sand
the words I have spoken or written
rest there temporarily
a wind comes up and worries them

—

I envy the anonymity of the desert’s sand grains
they come and go they say hello good night
they love & know how to recognize each other

because there where one ends the other begins
in the desert the eternal return
is a question of life and death


—Jean Portante
translated from the French by Pierre Joris
from New European Poets