Versindaba
~ 'n Weblog vir die Afrikaanse digkuns ~

 

Versindaba kompetisie vir vertaalde gedigte (57)

  

Gus Ferguson. Vertaling uit Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Elza Lorenz.

 

Vir Bob Dylan se verjaardag

 

‘ n Dylan-vers staan wars  op die blad

Herinner aan ‘n mankolieke koutjie

 

Wat kletter in die wind, en kreun

Maar budgie is reeds vort. Wanneer Bob praat

 

Is hy adenities, laringities

Sy stem verstom almal stil tot krities,

 

En sy bekfluit steur en tart,

Is insinuerend.

 

Sy metriek is ook besonder slap,

Sy ryme dikwels  ongemaklik pap.

 

Maar sy songs is pure duiwe, vry en

Ongehok. Elkeen wat hom hoor is mal :

 

Stem saam die geheim is

Waar sy  klem gaan val

 

Laat ons van gebrek en rym vergeet

En sy meesterlike tyd en plek beleef.

 

 

***

 

For Bob Dylan’s birthday

Gus Ferguson

 

A Dylan poem upon the page

Reminds one of a broken cage

 

That rattles in the wind and creaks.

The bird has flown. When Bobby speaks

 

He’s adenoidal, laryngitic.

His voice confounds his every critic,

 

And, like his mouth-harp, irritates –

It hectors and insinuates.

  

His prosody is very slack,

His awkward rhymes are often hack

 

But his songs are like the uncaged dove

Referred to in line four above

 

And everyone who hears agrees

The secret’s in the emphases.

 

So let’s forget about his faults and rhyming

And celebrate impeccable timing.

 

Bronverwysing:

Ferguson, Gus. 2003. From  GUS FERGUSON’s  Arse Poetica, Musings on Muse Abuse. Roggebaai: Kwela Books, First Edition, page 21.

 

 

 

Versindaba kompetisie vir vertaalde gedigte (41)

 

Alexis Rotella. Vertaling van Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Elza Lorenz.

 

5 Haiku

 

Van groen na grys

kruip die akkedis

uit die inkleurboek

 

Ontklee –

hang  vandag se rol skeef

aan  metaalhanger

 

Met wynglase

staan ons en praat in die

rododendrons in

 

ons praat oor skeiding

wyl hy die gehekelde tafeldoek

streel

 

In die gastekamer

waar Ma geslaap  het

soek ek troos

 

***

 

5 Haiku

Alexis Rotella

 

From green to grey

the lizard crawls out

of the coloring book

 

Undressed –

today’s role dangles

from a metal hanger

 

With wine glass

we stand and talk

into the rhododendrons

 

Discussing divorce

he strokes

the lace tablecloth

 

In the guest room

where my mother slept

I look for comfort

 

Bronverwysing:

Rotella, Alexis. 1947. Regional Poems and Haiku. New Jersey: Johnstown, PA.

 

 

Versindaba kompetisie vir vertaalde gedigte (29)

 

John O’Donohue. Vertaling van Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Elza Lorenz.

 

Toewensing

(vir Josy)

 

Vir die dag wat die las

op jou skouers versteen

en jy struikel,

mag die klei vir jou dans

as teenwig.

En as jou uitsig vries agter

die grys venster

en die gees van verlies

in jou insink,

mag ‘n trop wilde kleure –

dieppers, rooi, groen

en asuurblou –

kom om ‘n weiveld

van heerlikheid wakker te maak.

Wanneer die doek uitrafel

in die bootjie van denke

en die vlek oseaan

agter jou verdonker,

mag daar oor die waters

‘n voetpad goue maanlig

skyn om jou veilig tuis te bring.

 

Mag die aarde jou bly voed

mag die glans van die lig jou bybly

mag die voorvaders jou opbeur

en so ‘n lou wind

hierdie liefdeswoorde om jou spin –

‘n onsigbare mantel

om jou lewe te bewaar.

 

 

***

 

 Beannacht / Blessing

(for Josy)

 

On the day when

the weight deadens

on your shoulders

and you stumble,

may the clay dance

to balance you.

And when your eyes

freeze behind

the grey window

and the ghost of loss

gets in to you,

may a flock of colours,

indigo, red, green,

and azure blue

come to awaken in you

a meadow of delight.

 

When the canvas frays

in the currach of thought

and a stain of ocean

blackens beneath you,

may there come across the waters

a path of yellow moonlight

to bring you safely home.

 

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

may the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow

wind work these words

of love around you,

an invisible cloak

to mind your life.”

 

Bronverwysing:

O’Donohue, John. 1997. Anam Cara. e-boek. https/www.johnodonohue.com/store

HarperCollins. p. 11. Produced by permission of author’s Estate.

 

 

Versindaba kompetisie vir vertaalde gedigte (25)

 

David Whyte. Vertaling van Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Elza Lorenz.

 

Dan sou ek

 

Dan sou ek word soos die

malmens wat hardloop om die maan

in die venster sien,

 

die valk

wat ek die afgrond sien afteken

bokant die rivier.

 

Ek sou die man wees

wat ek heeltyd gejaag

en eindelik gevang het.

 

Ek sou al my intuisies wees

en al my begeertes

en dan sou ek loop,

stadig met die trappe af

asof in wit geklee

en in die water

inwaad

vir ‘n tweede doop.

 

Ek sou wees soos een

wat  sy liefde

nie kan wegsteek nie

maar my vreugde sou gewoon word,

en allerdaags

 

en soos ‘n minnaar

sou ek uitvind

presies hoe dit is

om die gelukkigste

die enigste in die skepping te wees

wat werklik verstaan

hoe naby

 

hoe ek net ‘n haarbreedte

van sterwe is.

 

***

 

Running to see the moon

David Whyte 

                                  

 I will have become like

the madman running

to see the moon

in the window,

 

the hawk

I saw tracing the cliff edge

above the river.

I will be the man

I have pursued all along

and finally caught.

 

I will be

all my intuitions

and all my desires

and then I will walk

slowly down the steps

as if dressed in white

and wade into

the water

for a second baptism.

 

I will be like

someone who cannot

hide their love

but

my joy will

become ordinary

and everyday

 

and like a lover

I will find out

exactly what it is like

to be the happiest,

the only one in creation

to really understand

how much,

 

I’m just a hair’s breadth

from dying.

 

Bronverwysing:

https://palacegatecounsellingservice.wordpress.com/2018/03/05/i-will-have-become-david-whyte/

 

 

Versindaba kompetisie vir vertaalde gedigte (24)

 

Elza Lorenz. Vertaling van Engels in Afrikaans. Vert. deur Elza Lorenz.

 

Op tagtig

                                   

In die binneland kronkel paaie

op hulself terug die ou jaar in

as ons weer moet glasies klink

met gekerriede praatjies

en rooiwyn

vroeg saans onthou ons nog

en meer

sodra die vel koel en glad word.

 

Ma se hart wen terug

na ou wysies

-psalms en koormusiek

in haar kamers –

vloeiend uit haar weduweeskruik;

 

demone deins terug

voor die pantserskild

van haar-en-haar-Here.

Pyn lewe in haar linkerbors

maar boggelskadu’s

moet ver bly;

sy, met bewerige stemlantern,

in die Lig.

 

My plooie is diep om die mond –

Trek al meer op jou pa, meen sy.

toe sy verlief geraak het

lank gelee

en die dat sy so lief is vir my

(‘n vreemde stilte

loop vol met die soetwyn

van haar tong)

 

terwyl ek skurwe voete invryf

en deftige ou gekispakte woorde

stadig uitroei op die donker see;

die lieflike poorte reeds in sig.

 

***

 

Turning eighty

Elza Lorenz

 

Inland roads wind

back upon themselves and the old year

as we raise glasses to toast

with red wine

and repartee.

By evening we unpack

moth-balled memories

when cool has settled on the skin

 

Ma’s heart rewinds to old memories

– hymns and choral music

in her chambers –

flowing from her widow’s cruse;

demons skulk back from the armoured

shield of her-and-her-Lord.

Arrows of fear pierce her left breast

but bent shadows

must remain far

while she ever seeks

the Light

with lantern, humming

 

creases carve paths for my mouth –

Looking more and more like Pa, she says

when she fell in love

so long ago

(filling a strange silence

with sweet dessert wine

from her tongue)

 

while I rub the calloused feet

and limping old words in their Sunday best

row slowly on dark waters

towards those lovely distant gates

 

Bronverwysing:

Lorenz, Elsa. 2001. Issues in English studies in Southern Africa Vol. 6 (1). Pretoria: UNISA.