Haiku

Dissel 02 copy

Photo: DWV

Haiku 2018.09.13
Thistle seed pulls loose,
journeys on the wind’s cool back –
now growth’s pain and joy.

Advertisements
Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Tydstip

Godot hasn't arrived yet

Tydstip. Foto: DWV

Tydstip

.

Iets sal gebeur.

Dit is so seker

as die hardheid van die vloer,

die asem in die longe

van die twee.

Dit sal gebeur

en daar is geen twyfel daaraan nie,

net so min as wat

mens twyfel

dat daar ander is,

wat jy nie nou kan sien nie,

maar jy glo dat hulle daar is.

Die twee manne

sit langs mekaar, maar

praat nie met mekaar nie.

Wat het hulle te sê?

Hulle kan vir mekaar sê

dat iets gaan gebeur,

maar dit is nie nodig nie,

hulle weet iets gaan gebeur.

Maar nie nou nie.

Nou gebeur daar niks.

Dit kan wees

dat nou nooit sal ophou nie.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Ardent lever

7CA6B5D2-2085-405F-A4CF-F61BDD27CD9F-3011-000000AE498D107B

Pond. Photographic: DWV

Ardent lover

.

My existence is

as certain as water on the moon,

the man who walked

along the edge of the man-made pond

thought.

The hardness of water is real,

he mused.

It depends on the circumstances –

if a body with a fair amount

of mass

impacts on the surface of the water

at some speed, the object can bounce off.

He bent over, picked up a flat stone,

and skimmed it over the pond.

.

What I’m not certain about,

he told himself,

even rising an index finger

to emphasise his point,

is whether I’m in love with her.

.

I feel normal, he mused.

There is no golden glow,

and I don’t hear

a chorus singing Beethoven’s Ode to Joy.

.

I am very likely in love with her,

he pointes out to himself.

As likely as there is life

on other planets,

very likely. Possibly.

Just think about her face:

trace a curve over her forehead

and over her nose,

what an exquisite shape!

.

I mustn’t get too passionate,

he warned himself.

Unbridled passion leads

to rash decisions.

Love is something to be approached

with a cool head.

.

Now, let us look realistically

and practically at her good qualities.

Firstly, het genetic background …

.

Something caught his eye

at the other side of the pond.

Sunlight flashed off her blonde head,

a floodgate opening

to release a torrent of liquid light.

.

She waved at him.

His heart started beating faster.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Brûe

IMG_1927 copy

Foto: DWV

Brûe

.

Brûe tussen die grond

en die wolke;

met my voete

verken ek bruin en rooi klippe,

die moedergrond

met klein wurmpies

wat dieper skarrel,

doringboomsade wat eers

twee klein groen handjies uitsteek

om die bui van die son te voel

voor dit opstyg uit hulle wit penwortels

soos lewende hysers

belaai met wild-gretige werkers.

.

Met my voete

verken ek die hoë lug,

voel ek hoe onsigbare sade,

spore van fungusse, insekeiers,

stukkies spinnedrade, mikroskopiese

waterdruppels, onbekende objekkies

verby my stroom en warrel.

.

Ek loop deur die vlieswolke

sonder om hulle te voel,

spat deur die swaar

kneusblou reënwolke.

.

My voete,

die brûe

tussen die voel en die blinde leef

van die grond

en die altyd yl-wordende dink

van die waterwolke.

.

Met my voete

kan ek hier net loop,

nie vastrap nie.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Antonio Gamoneda in Afrikaans

images

Antonio Gamoneda

Hay un muro delante de mis ojos.

En el espesor del aire hay signos invisibles,

hierba cuyos hilos entran al corazón lleno de sombra,

líquenes en el residuo del amor.

Antonio Gamoneda

Daar is ’n muur voor my oë.

In die dik lug is daar onsigbare tekens,

grasvesels wat die hart, vol skadu’s, binnedring,

ligene in die oorblyfsels van liefde.

Bloedskande en lig. Bepeins die lens wat vroomheid voorafgaan, bepeins die waters:

as ek nie-bestaan kan oorsteek sal fonteine van deernis oopgaan

en daar sou blinde mans wees wie se groot hande sagkens sou werk,

maar lafhartigheid is pragtig in my ma se hare en op hierdie muur word stilte geskryf.

Weeklaag in helderheid, hol waarhede:

“Die lewe is niks werd nie / niks is die lewe werd nie”*

Onthou hierdie lied voor jy in my oë kyk;

kyk na my oë wanneer dit sneeu.

Bron: Poetry Foundation

Antonio Gamoneda

(Spain, 1931)

  Tuesday 1 June 2010

Antonio Gamoneda was born in Oviedo in Spain in 1931. He has lived in León since 1934 and has published more than twenty poetry collections (of which one or two are rewritings of earlier versions); most are collected in the book Esta Luz (2004).

Gamoneda is a solitary writer. For many long years he chose to remain cut off from the literary establishment; nevertheless, the poet was able to create a world in which one of the most personal and innovative voices of contemporary Spanish poetry resounds.

Memory, history and self-analysis buttress a very intense and fictitious writing which offers itself to the reader as a mythical space of knowledge and emotion. An awareness of death is a source of poetical pleasure for Gamoneda. This knowledge and pleasure give birth to a poetry that, recognising the value of tradition, charts completely new paths and repeatedly modernises the genre.

Nota*“Die lewe is niks werd nie / niks is die lewe werd nie”*

Dit is die eerste reëls van ’n lied deur Luis Alcoriza wat die temamusiek was van ’n 1955 Meksikaanse film.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Terwyl die son stadig sak

default

Pierre-Auguste Renoir 1841-1919

 

Claude Esteban

CE SERA LE SOIR

Ce sera le soir, la même heure

du soir, les colombes

Dit sal aand wees …

Claude Esteban

Dit sal aand wees, dieselfde
aanduur, die duiwe

sal begin sit op die takke
iemand sal sê, hoe

hoog is die gras, kom ons sit,
vertel ons

om die tyd om te kry, ’n effens lawwe storie,
van ’n koning

wat gedink het hy weet als en toe als
verloor het, iemand

sal sê, genoeg treurige stories,
vergeet dit,

terwyl die son stadig sak.

Uit Frans vertaal deur De Waal Venter

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Res Publica

 

Res Publica

.

A short distance

above his head

was another world.

People used to call it heaven,

and many still do,

but he didn’t like the word

because it was so limited.

.

He sometimes entered it

when he was asleep.

Recently he visited a part of it

that was not particularly pleasant –

it was very disorganised

and he couldn’t find his clothes.

.

He could also enter it

when he was awake.

Then he had a much wider choice

which part to visit

and what to do

when he was there.

.

Recently he had quite an interesting visit

to Republican Rome ca. 52 BC.

He dressed as a senator

and quietly attended a session of the senate

where Cicero made a stirring speech.

Language wasn’t a problem

as he seemed to acquire

a perfect knowledge of the language

of the world he visited.

.

Afterwards he walked towards

the Field of Mars through narrow streets

cluttered with the stalls of merchants

and citizens going about their business.

He chatted with a young man, called Viconius,

who had struck up a conversation with him.

.

Viconius wanted t know

whether he thought

Pompeius would

make the Republic more prosperous.

.

He tugged at his chin for a while

and then answered:

The Republic is the people.

Do the people deserve to flourish?

674

Cicero addresses the senate

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment