Ilse van Staden – vertaling in Engels

Ilse van Staden – vertaal deur/ translated by Charl JF Cilliers

 

Ilse van Staden

Ilse van Staden

Ilse van Staden was born in Pretoria in 1972, but grew up in the Waterberg in the Limpopo Province. She matriculated at Pro Arte High School (Pretoria) and studied veterinary science at the University of Pretoria. From 1997 to 2005 she was a full-time veterinary surgeon. Subsequently she has been a part-time vet and a part-time writer. Her first volume of poems Watervlerk (2003) won the Eugene Marais and Ingrid Jonker prizes. She completed her B.A. degree in Creative Writing through the University of South Africa. In 2008 Lapa published her second volume of poems Fluisterklip.  In 2009 Pandora Books published Die dood is ‘n mooi blou blom for the author as a bibliophile edition.

 

 

They Say It Is Raining

 

They say it is raining

cats and dogs and tadpoles with toes               

and in the rain gauge mosquito larvae drown

dreaming of drier things,

flat rock-hollows overflow,

empty out of birds

that bewilderedly bathe in droplets from branches –

incessantly

it rains

between clusters of termites and reeds

mired in the clay of broader streams,

water clogs the low-water bridges                               

because the farmers prayed too hard this time

and somewhere a blue tractor sinks

up to its wheels into the fields

like lungfish in the mud when it was dry –

it is raining, they say

and toddlers already know

about crossing t’s and dotting i’s

like droplets

around rainbows.

 

(From:Watervlerk,Tafelberg, 2003)

(Tr. by Charl JF Cilliers)

 

 

Death Is An Illusion

 

There is no other side,

just here

and these words against the wall

with windows of our daring or faith.

As if behind a window pane                               

a landscape of illusions grew

while we peered and wondered

(for wondering can be belief)

is eternity always this

imagined external view?

 

(From:Watervlerk,Tafelberg, 2003)

(Tr. by Charl JF Cilliers)

 

 

Gasp

 

The silence that now often fills

the horizons where my landscapes lie,

the cough that hovers in a throat’s phlegmatic trough,

at times the dragging feet of an aimless wind:

 

my stony breath is spent.

 

With time spaces fill up with dripping limestone,

in hidden corners sheltered sounds that slowly calcify.

I gasp for air too rarefied to breathe,

petrified rhymes whisper in my head.                                 

 

My throat comes caving in.

Somewhere a word turned to stone.                                  

 

(From: Fluisterklip, LAPA, 2008)

(Tr. by Charl JF Cilliers)

 

 

come

 

come chickens, come angels

sleep in the niches of the morning

sleep the sleep of the dead

in cages, on roof ridges

in shelters, in block houses

breathe through embrasures as if through spiracles,

the way that winged creatures breathe

in the evanescence of time’s passing

in passageways, in graves

 

come chickens, come angels

sleep death’s sleep like a morning dream.

 

(From: Die dood is ‘n mooi blou blom (Pandora Boeke, 2009)

(Tr. by Charl JF Cilliers)

Translator:

 

Charl JF Cilliers  was born in 1941 in Cape Town. Initially he went into the field of electronics and lectured for 4 years. He then joined Parliament as a translator in 1968 and retired in 1998 as Editor of Hansard. His first volume of poems West-Falling Light appeared in 1971, to be followed by Has Winter No Wisdom in 1978. His Collected Poems 1960 – 2008 appeared in 2008 and The Journey in 2010. His latest volume of poetry , A momentary stay.  was published in 2011. He also published a volume of children’s poems, Fireflies Facing The Moon, in 2008. He has retired to the Cape West Coast where he continues to write.

Bookmark and Share

Comments are closed.