Elisabeth Eybers – vertaal deur Charl J.F. Cilliers en die outeur/translated by Charl J.F. Cilliers and the author
Dagdroom
Ek het jou brief gelees terwyl ek eet,
die woordesoet het oor my tong gesprei.
Verby die aardse brood het ek gestaar
dwarsdeur die bome in die raam, dwarsdeur die grys
wolkeplafon tot in die paradys
waar alles lig en helder is. En net
soos in die Bybel was ons naak en het
ek, aangekla, gou hom die skuld gegee
wat skemerig sis . . . toe ek opeens gewaar
dat ek my halfgerookte sigaret aftik
in my twee-derde koppie tee.
Elisabeth Eybers, Gedigte 1958-1973
***
Daydream
I read your letter while I was eating,
sweetness of words spreading over my tongue.
Beyond this earthly bread I fixed my eyes
beyond trees in the window pane, the grey
cloud ceiling, to the everlasting play
of brightness and light in paradise. As
in the Bible when we were naked, and I was
accused, I quickly shifted blame from me
to one hissing in the dusk … then, to my surprise,
found I was flicking my half-smoked cigarette
into my two-thirds-full cup of tea.
Elisabeth Eybers, Gedigte 1958-1973
(Translated by Charl JF Cilliers)
Whatever survives of the innermost me
Displaced Person
Whatever survives the innermost me
contains you too, unfailingly,
South Africa. But the traditional lore
seems less persuasive than before
they chose to bisect your proper name
by calling you Africa, where, on the whole,
disaster plays an alarming role
quite foreign to what I recollect
and cherish as a sancrosanct debt.
South Africa, while you disappear
I try to keep your status clear
by claiming that you’re exempt from blame.
[Translated by the author]
Immigrant
My hands and feet are all that came along,
the rest somehow got scuppered on the way:
the woozy heart, the whole foolhardy throng
of ductless glands raring to go astray.
Comparing what has disappeared with what
surrounds me here, I readily embrace
brand-new impressions, sound and light, the lot:
sense-organs occupying a rightful place.
My breast and belly also indicate
that something else existed previously.
Who knew that emptiness creates such weight
or what a burden non-constraint can be?
[Translated by the author]
In this strange land, unshielded by a mask…
Step by Step
You learn migration step by step, you see
strange and familiar objects, somehow stranded
on the artificial terrace where you landed
yet did not settle irrefutably.
[Translated by the author]
Willy-nilly
South Africa, when I abandoned you
because of personal hurt (not merely due
to random statements of stupidity)
my accent was enough to indicate
from where I came. Strange, how they welcomed me
while treating you to blind, official hate.
[Translated by the author]
Exile
In this strange land, unshielded by a mask…
the people here take everyone to task,
don’t tolerate nor flatter. What on earth
detains you here? There life was far more worth
and nothing now precludes your safe return.
You answer self-assured:
hate and suspicion can be borne
by all who share equivalent rights, who learn
not to make laws humiliating others
or challenge humanness by rubber stamp,
who look upon their fellow-men as brothers.
Why do I shrink from demanding:
my kinsmen, my co-incumbent,
just how will our children fare?
– Who’s paying for the past, its hapless care.
[Translated by Elisabeth Eybers (1915 – 2007)
Published in: The Low Countries. Arts and Society in Flanders and the Netherlands (2010, nr.18)
Published here with permission by the Chief Editor, Luc Devoldere.]
Mary
One of God’s holy seraphim
with joyful news came down to earth:
in humble praise you sang a hymn,
Mary, maid of Nazareth!
But when the neighbours looked askance
and Joseph thought he’d go away,
could you predict the dreary load
of shame your son would bear one day?
When, with a little secret smile,
you stroked your body – could you tell
the mingled love and dread with which
he’d have to brave the pit of hell?
And in the stable – as you lay
forsaken in your agony –
could you foresee the lonely way
that led into Gethsemany?
When gaudy monarchs journeyed far
their homage and their gifts to bring,
did you know with what boisterous shouts
the soldiers would proclaim him king?
When in your arms you held him so
as babes are cradled to be nursed
and watched his sucking, did you know
how helplessly he’d writhe with thirst?
*
When darkness flooded you, and John
came up and took you by the hand,
Woman of Sorrows, did you then
remember all and understand?