November: "No Trespassing" and the Skies of Fall
Vijf Gedichten; FivePoems
The guest poems for this week are new English
translations of a set of five Dutch pieces.
The featured poets are, M. Vasalis, Ed.
Hoornik, Simon
Vestdijk, Willem Frederik
Hermans and Judith Herzberg.
Titles as Frames around Open
Space
One thing pictures and poems certainly have in common
is their
frames. The visual image necessarily is limited in some way by
borders, whereas a poem, insofar as its content points us in a
certain direction, or has a particular focus, at least implies
a title even if it doesn't have one. The title/frame sets the tone,
awakens expectations, directs our attention in different ways by
the quality of space it creates.
This week I've brought together five new translations of shorter
Dutch poems. With the title
October, M. Vasalis
instantly grounds
the piece in the age old tradition of marking the passage of the natural
year in verse. "Something so known," it's true, even a child
living in
the Northern latitudes has seen more than a handful of autumns come
and go. But at the same time the movement into winter remains
to many of us both mysterious and, as we grow older, open to different
interpretations. "And so undone of all conflict" is an interesting
thought to ponder as one takes it out of the poem and tucks it away
in an old coat pocket like an acorn found on a forest path.
Ed. Hoornik with The
Birds takes us by surprise in a charming way.
Yes, another traditional theme, but now, more about how the sound of birds
singing changes over time as two lovers grow closer to one another.
Simon Vestdijk's Edge of
Myselfthe Dutch title
Zelfkant literally
means 'Self-edge'is a slow-moving, camera-like description of a place,
a moment, which the poet has happened upon. Not far from town
in Holland, one is never far from townbut still he finds a certain
wilderness-like solitude there in the way that it has been forgotten.
A beautiful touch in the last stanza is how the poem comes round
in self-reference: "And the black calf in the meadow at the edge /Is
set free by an unlooked for poem /And with the cinders with but
one image taken in." It is as if he is asking, where does he, the
observer,
end and the countryside/the poem begin?
With the title Night
Thoughts offered to us by Willem Frederik
Hermans
we are instantly prepared for the fragmentary if not surreal. After a
quick sketch with a few sharp contrasts he leaves us with the thought of
growth happening latelate in the day, in a season, in a life.
And finally, Judith Herberg concludes our quintet of poems with her
piece, Hospital
Visit. The title opens upon a space well-known
to
us all, and also for many of us filled with more
than a little fear
and tragedy, so we're pleased with her charming matter-of-fact
anecdoteDutch is a wonderful language for this kind of straight
forward, light-footed versein which her father we hope, "you
should
try it sometime...," leaves the space with a smile:
October Teeder en jong, als werd het voorjaar maar lichter nog, want zonder vruchtbegin, met dunne mist tusschen de gele blaren zet stil het herfstgetijde in. Ik voel alleen, dat ik bemin, zooals een kind, iets jongs, iets ouds, eind of begin? Iets zo vertrouwds en zoo van alle strijd ontheven niet als een einde van het leven, maar als de lente van den dood. De kruinen ijl, de stammen bloot en dit door stilte en mist omgeven. M. Vasalis (1909-1998) |
October Tender and young, as if it were spring but lighter yet, not burdened with new fruit, with thin mist between the yellow leaves, quietly the time of fall begins. I feel alone, that I love like a child, something young, something old, end or beginning? Something so known and so undone of all conflict not as an end of life, but as the spring of death. The rarefied crowns, the naked trunks, and this surrounded by silence and mist. |
De
Vogels Er waren altijd vogels in je tuin. We keken hoe de dikke duif kwam baden en in de vijver daalde, steen voor steen. Aanvanklijk was je net als ik verlegen; de vogels hielpen ons eroverheen, de vogels, ja, maar die toch niet alleen. Wat dan? Het kattekwaad dat we verzonnen, wanneer je vrouw op het gazon verscheen en van het puurst geluk je ogen glommen? Of't samenzitten als de zon verdween, de vogels slechts bij tussenpozen zongen en niet meer tegelijk, maar één voor één? Ed. Hoornik (1910-1970) |
The Birds There were always birds in the garden. We watched how the plump dove came to bathe and sank into the pond, stone by stone. At first you were just as shy as me; the birds helped us get over that, the birds, yes, but not only them. What then? The mischief we came up with, like when your wife appeared on the lawn and your eyes shone with the purest joy? Or sitting together as the sun disappeared, the birds singing only now and then and no longer all together, but one by one? |
Zelfkant Ik houd het meest van halfland'lijkheid: Van vage weidewinden die met lijnen Vol waschgoed spelen; van fabrieksterreinen Waar tusschen arm'lijk gras de lorrie rijdt, Bevracht met het geheim der dokspoorlijnen. Want 'k weet, er is daar waar men 't leven slijt En toch niet leeft, zwervend meer eenzaamheid Te vinden dan in bergen of ravijnen. De walm van stoomtram en van bleekerij Of van de ovens waar men schelpen brandt Is meer dan thijmgeur aanstichter van droomen, En 't zwarte kalf in 't weitje aan den rand Wordt door een onverhoopt gedicht bevrijd En in één beeld met sintels opgenomen. Simon Vestdijk (1898-1971) uit: Kind van Stad en Land (1936) |
Edge of Myself The half-rural countryside I love the most: The vague pasture winds that play With the wash on the lines; the factory lots Where between the dry grass trains go about, Laden with the secrets of tracks on a pier. Because I know, that there life is worn down, And yet doesn't live, drifting, finding more Solitude than in mountains or ravines. The smoke from steam trollies and bleach factory, Or the ovens where they burn the shells, More than the smell of thyme, are kindlers of dreams, And the black calf in the meadow at the edge Is set free by an unlooked for poem And with the cinders with but one image taken in. |
Nachtgedachte De zon was zo fel Dat ik niets kon zien dan zwart En wit. Dat ik mijzelf Slechts aan mijn schaduw mat. De zon stond zo hoog Dat ik bijna geen schaduw had. En daarom ben ik overdag zo klein en mooi Ik, die pas bij het later worden groei. Willem Frederik Hermans (1921-1995) |
Night Thoughts The sun was so intense That I could see nothing but black and white. That I myself only by my shadow measured. The sun stood so high That I hardly had a shadow. And hence during the day I'm so / small and beautiful I, who only as it gets later grow. |
Ziekenbezoek Mijn vader had een lang uur zitten / zwijgen bij mijn bed. Toen hij zijn hoed had opgezet zei ik, nou, dit gesprek is makkelijk te resumeren. Nee, zei hij, nee toch niet je moet het maar eens proberen. Judith Herzberg (1934) |
Hospital Visit My father sat more than an hour in / silence next to my bed. After he had put on his hat I said, now, this conversation will be easy to resume. No, he said, not at all, you should try it sometime. (all tr. Cliff Crego) |
| view / print
Picture/Poem
Poster:
Vasalis October
pdf (63 K) |
See also: new |
"Straight
roads, Slow rivers, Deep clay." |
A collection of contemporary Dutch poetry in English translation, with commentary and photographs by Cliff Crego |
See also another website by Cliff Crego: The Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke |
A presentation of 80 of the best poems of Rilke in both German and new English translations: biography, links, posters |