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Lars Ruppel en de regio St. Johann

Een poëzieslag over vakantiegeluk!

De slamdichter Lars Ruppel dicht over zijn zeer persoonlijke ervaringen met geluk. Hij neemt de echte geluksmomenten en kijkt naar de details: Wat doet een wandelpad met u? Wat gebeurt er in uw hoofd als u een beek of kloof oversteekt? Wat is er zo bijzonder aan een hut en een Kaiserschmarren? Hoe voelt een afdaling op een piste met verse sneeuw precies aan?

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Lars Ruppel

  • Über das Jetzt • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppelplay_arrow

    Über das Jetzt • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppel

  • Über den Schnee • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppelplay_arrow

    Über den Schnee • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppel

  • Über das Packen • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppelplay_arrow

    Über das Packen • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppel

  • Über das Schlemmen • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppelplay_arrow

    Über das Schlemmen • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppel

  • Über das Wandern • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppelplay_arrow

    Über das Wandern • Poetry Slam von Lars Ruppel

Poëzieslag om te lezen - ‘Over de nu’

This is for you sun-hungry social distancing champions
Who long for a slap-happy lust-for-life-ambience

This is for the disciplined infection curve flatners
For the indulgent savers of life, health and what matters

With these words we`d like to say: Thanks for your patience!
And invite you to refuel with a joyful vacation

We've made good use of our time here without you
We've made the mountain lakes even more blue

At dawn they now reflect the light glistening rosy
We even managed to make your rooms 70% more cosy

We were able to change the glow of the flourishing veil
so that the colours of the flowers lining the hiking trails

now bewitch with an even more beautiful charm
We rehearsed to draw pictures with icing sugar on Kaiserschmarrn

We have polished all of the mountain bike tracks
We have restaged the dramatic panoramas from scratch

We perfected the idyllic alps and their clover
We will fade out the sunsets even slower

We've moved the tables on the terraces apart for you and good reason
So that cohesion stays strong all through holiday season

And we invented a smile you can feel through any mask
We have enough "Yapadu!" to make your soul gasp

After times full of struggle the happy end is this:
A stay with the world's best ranking masters of bliss

Poëzieslag om te lezen - ‘Over de sneeuw’

Is it the angle the sun hits the ground
That makes this crystal clear, fresh fallen snow
covering bodies of mighty stone
pulsate in an opulent colourful show?

Or is it the sight of this gaping width?
Knowing there`s just a chamois hair`s breadth
between you and a bold downhill dive?
Or does your love for air come to life?

When you stand there alone, the ski plebs asleep,
Singeing your lungs with a breath that’s so deep
like a tender flame that`s warming your guts
from afar you can hear piste yobs go nuts

And you wonder: Did things just turn on their side?
Might these be the clouds you`re standing astride
Cause you`re going downhill, that much you know
But you feel like you`re rising up from below

high to the sky, the faster you dash towards the vale
Is this luck, is this rush, is this scene just a tale?
`Cause gravity gently pulls at your weight
And the vale says a prayer for your skiing fate

The ascent, the downhill, a circle of life
merging with foamy whipping cream white
to an apre ski cocktail of beauty and time
Cheers to the bliss of a fractured spine!

Poëzieslag om te lezen - ‘Over het pakken’

Off the cabinet, you old suitcase!
You have stayed there way too long!
All the postcards we`ve been sent!
Enough, I say, this can`t go on!
Now it`s us, who gets to travel

Marching confidently towards our luck!
Let the postman keep on ringing
I promise you, I won`t be back!
When I say „never“, I mean „two weeks“
Feels like forever and a day
I`m as ready as can be

and longing for this holiday!
The daily grind`s up to my neck
My calendar can stay at home
It is about my age by now,
it will be fine alone

What to take? What could I miss?
They have everything I need
My suitcase filled with farewells
And with reunions that I seek
One long held resolution
And the book, that`s still unread
The treasure map of wisdom

For moments that`ll lie ahead
A watch that can`t tell time
A calendar without one page
Important notes for the next meeting
That won`t be taking place

I pack my stressed-out sorrows.
They fear I may not try
too hard not to forget them
at the nearest lay-by

I pack my restless breath,
so calmness it regain
My passion for this life,
to once again inflame.

My eyes hungry for pictures
longing for the greatest spots
My legs that will carry me
to the highest mountain tops

Two fat smiles on my lips
One for sunshine, one for rain
And an anchor, cause I´m floating
through the lightness of my being

A „Yapadu!“, that I will shout
Anytime, just for the crack
when my old life forgets about me
and I fall into luck`s lap

Longing takes up the most space
Sets off humming in my heart
By now it`s Salzachgeier-size,
so finally this journey starts

With the suitcase in my hands
I leave everything behind
I only take along light luggage
On my way to finally find
– true happiness

Poëzieslag om te lezen - ‘Over het feesten’

Once upon a time
In a valley so divine
A cook was awfully sad
Though his cooking wasn`t bad

He was extremely bored
With all his skills ignored
All the people ate
Just salad for their shape

To dine and feast with glee
An excessive eating spree
Till the bellies bend
was not considered time well spent

Instead they counted calories,
built their muscles hard as steel
So there he stood and couldn`t cope
bored out in his cooking robe

To himself he thought: „Enough!
I`m not ready to give up!
I will create a dish so fine
Upon which a god would dine

A dish that no one can despise!
That gives you love and butterflies!“
And in the dark of his enclosure
began creating his ambrosia

He made a plan
With pots and pans
To revive and to replenish
The dozing palates of the many

Each ingredient was
the finest of its art
and the cook combined
It seemed he lost his mind

He did compose true poems
of cuisine lore, but oh it
all turned into ballads!
they all still ordered salads.

The cook walked out the door
What was he still needed for?
But as he locked the kitchen
The mountains started glistening

The Kitzbüheler Horn
and all the rocks known
seemed to be aflame
by the sunlight on their face

A glow on the stone
As if flowers of gold
burst into light,
a tingle so bright

And out of the clouds of fire
rose an elysian choir
spraying flakes of snow
The cook, who saw the show

did not feel any fear
instead he had the genius idea
to make a buttery flower dough
with a compelling golden glow

a dish to make you moan
and to have the Kaiser crowned
with a crest of sugar,
to grow desire even bigger

icing should powder its hills.
That`s how it is written still.
From that day on we thank the man
for Kaiserschmarrn in Knödelland

Poëzieslag om te lezen - ‘Over het wandelen’

In the sunny summer days
This place is – well, one has to say
Like a dream, though you`re awake
Strolling through this countryside,
its surrounding alpine sight
embracing you with every day

If you`re tired, you should wander
Hike along the path of ponder
Feel the flow of energy
Rushing back into your chest
Tackle this route step by step
Rely upon the signs you see

Because they lead the way
And a happy, jolly journey
Is one with a destination
Still you`d get lost gladly here
Smiling brightly ear to ear
Your heart swells in adoration

On lofty trails we tramp
With our calves extremely cramped
through this land – a piece art
Looking at these Monuments
No need for words, mute compliments
This view`s a postcard to the heart

This beauty has some kind of weight
But in this sea of flowery waves
Every thirst gets satisfied
When your shoes get heavy
And all your sorrows steady
it`s a picture-perfect sight

When hidden behind your water bottle
you find one last Landjäger sausage,
take a break and halt the hike!
Rest your legs and air your shoes / enjoy the view
look at these mountains, happily chew
that`s what heaven tastes like

A starry sky of function wear
Hikers shooting through the air
round-trips in touring company
Some crawl clumsy, some do well
But all the hikers have a smell
of new born serendipity

De making of

Achter de schermen van de opnames!

1 dag, 1 studio, 1 poëzieslag. Lars Ruppel trad op in een klassieke studio-opstelling. Er werden die dag 4 afleveringen opgenomen. Lars schrijft over wandelen, feesten, inpakken en sneeuw. Voor elke aflevering werd een apart kostuum en speciale studioapparatuur gekozen.

  • Lars Ruppel Making of - Regio St. Johann in Tirol
    De slamdichter Lars Ruppel dicht over zijn zeer persoonlijke ervaringen met geluk.
  • Lars Ruppel Making of - Regio St. Johann in Tirol
    De slamdichter Lars Ruppel dicht over zijn zeer persoonlijke ervaringen met geluk.
  • Lars Ruppel Making of - Regio St. Johann in Tirol
    De slamdichter Lars Ruppel dicht over zijn zeer persoonlijke ervaringen met geluk.

Wie is Lars Ruppel?

Een van de meest succesvolle Duitstalige slamdichters!

Lars Ruppel is een van de meest succesvolle Duitstalige woorddeelnemers aller tijden. Hij won de slamdicht-kampioenschappen in verschillende disciplines en schreef twee bestsellers voor poëzie, ‘Holger, de bosfee’ en ‘De koe van het ijs’. Voor veel slamfans is zijn gedicht ‘Alter Schwede’ het beste slamwerk ooit. Met zijn project ‘Wekwoorden’ inspireert hij verpleegkundigen voor mensen met dementie om gedichten voor te dragen in de dagelijkse zorg. Lars Ruppel woont als dichter in Berlijn en werkt op podia en voor bedrijven over de hele wereld om de economie poëtischer te maken.

Voor de regio St. Johann in Tirol nam hij 4 ‘reis-slams’ op, waarmee hij zijn YAPADU-gevoel voor natuur en regio poëtisch uitdrukte.

Ik vraag me af hoe ik GEEN gedichten zou kunnen schrijven over dit prachtige gebied. Dat is een normale fysieke reactie op de schoonheid daar.

Werken met het team was als een vakantie. Er zijn ook een vergelijkbaar aantal video-opnamen gemaakt.

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Lars Ruppel

Dichter • Berliner • Alpenliefhebber

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