Posts Tagged ‘Jón Örn Loðmförð’

Louis Esterhuizen. Ysland se ‘radikale’ digkuns

Tuesday, October 25th, 2011

Ysland is natuurlik meer bekend vir sy misdaadskrywers as vir sy digkuns, en tog is dit juis die digkuns wat nogal wêreldwyd agting afdwing; veral danksy die werksaamhede van Thor Steinarsson, organiseerder die Reykjavik International Poetry Festival en hoof van die poësie-werksgroep Nýhil wat in 2004 gestig is.

Die eerste poësiefees wat deur Nýhil aangebied was, het in 2005 in ‘n vervalle fabrieksgebou plaasgevind. Sedertdien het Nýhil al 50 digbundels gepubliseer en 40 internasionale digters by hul jaarlikse fees betrek.  

Via die Poetry Foundation se webblad is daar hoeka ‘n skakel na die onderhoud wat na afloop van vanjaar se fees met Steinarsson gevoer was. Hiervolgens tipeer Steinarsson die Yslandse digkuns as ‘radikaal’ ten opsigte waarvan: “Our collective supports hybrid, experimental, post-avant, radical, innovative text (often under the broader definition of poetry) […] People actively identifying their works as ‘poetry’ to consider[ing] textual experimentation in a variety of formats (highlighting specifically new media work; cross- multi-, and interdisciplinary work; and non-conventional publishing translated to performance.”

By wyse van illustrasie plaas ek die lang gedig uit Jón Örn Loðmförð (een van Nýhil se eerste medewerkers) se pen hieronder. Nog verse van Örn Loðmförð kan gelees word by 3:AM Magazine. En, indien dit jou interesseer, is daar ook ‘n onderhoud wat deur SJ Fowler met Örn Loðmförð gevoer is, om te geniet.


A poem for Frankfurt

When will it rain?
Finger-thick ice
Has enveloped the
Tree branches
We are asked
To show patience
And understanding
Until it gets warmer outside
The slippers lie on the floor
The toes are blue from being out of doors for so long

I’m going to tell you about Iceland
Chant patriotic poems
About the caves, the waterfalls, the hot springs
The horses, the ewes and the cows
About the people’s struggle – der Sagas
And the striving in perilous weather

Icelandic patriotic poems are part
Of the nation’s precious heritage
Offering a new understanding and satisfying
The searching, praying mind of Modern Man
And are convenient for individuals as well as groups

“Icelandic is the nation that guards your heritage”
Is transformed, with the aid of a translation machine, into
“Island ist eine Nation, die Ihr Geschäft braucht.”
Which translates back into Icelandic as
“Iceland is a nation well suited to the demands of your company.”

Because for some reason
There are few things as sad
As an abandoned factory
Abandoned northern lights
An abandoned Lady of the mountain
With her daddy’s drill between her legs

I turn into a savage
In the summer night
The girls into tender
Daughters of the forest
Lots of drunken sex
To be had there
It says in the brochure
It’s raining philosophers’ stones
Everything glitters with joy

Icelanders’ heads are undiversified
And awfully lumbering
Compared to the sturdy body
The neck is short and erect
The Icelandic woman has followed the nation
Since the beginning of settlement, through thick and thin
And been of much use and enjoyment.
She is unique and is praised
Around the world for her skills and special merits
Each year, many tourists from abroad
Get to know her
During short trips.

I would like to thank Dagur
For the inspiration
“Ich bin überwältigt!” replies Dagur
In front of the collegiate church
In Tübingen
Where, engraved in marble, one reads:
“Goethe puked here”

There, at least, something happened

When something happens in central Reykjavik
Nothing happens, just a café that changes hands
A seagull vanquished by a gun cartridge,
A woman in the national costume and a poet roll around in a graveyard
A giant spider pokes its feelers into genitals,
A complicated courting in the west side of town

But when will it rain?

© Jón Örn Loðmförð