Poem by J.J. Slauerhoff [1898 -1936]
Original Dutch title ''De eenzamen IV''
From the collection ''Al dwalend'' [voorheen ongebundelde gedichten 1947]
Portuguese translation
Mila Vidal Paletti
English translation
Hans van den Bos
Dutch and Flemish poetry translated into English by Hans van den Bos, assisted by Hilary Reynolds.
Saudade/Nostalgia
I have so many memories, As leaves rustling on the trees, As reeds murmering near streams, As birds singing into the azure, As song, murmering and rustling: So many and more amorphous than dreams. |
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Original title:
Saudade From: Verzamelde gedichten, Uitgeverij Nijgh &
Van Ditmar, 's Gravenhage-Rotterdam - 1961 - 10e druk - blz. 671 |
Desolate Desolate and grey the sea surges, Yet other ships are sailing there; Desolate and yellow the moon errs Through the so much larger sky. There is no harbour where she is bound, No roadstead in the Milky Way; The earth views her with disdain, And for the stars she does not count. |
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Original title: Eenzaam en grauw golft de zee From: Verzamelde gedichten, Uitgeverij Nijgh & Van Ditmar, 's Gravenhage-Rotterdam - 1961 - 10e druk - blz. 723 |
Orpheus on the Breton coast On an idle afternoon, when my lyre was hanging on the willows, I ripped off tens of mussels, threw them alive in boiling local wine, destroyed a lobster with a tongs and speared snails out of their bunkers heroically my hands soaked afterwards in lemon juice That night I rowed on the sea and came into a gully that took me to the Styx Hades, with a soft heart, gave me another chance to fetch Eurydice - If only I had looked round - she was already almost above ground - at the nymph that passed me the first rays of the sun just caught Poseidon's sardonic look of triumph. |
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Original title: Orpheus aan de Bretonse kust From: De tweede ronde - Zeenummer - Tijdschrift voor literatuur - Winter 1988, Uitgeverij Bert Bakker, Amsterdam
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Knowledge
of nature From the procession car we had a view now and then of forsythias, vividly set off against the dull misery of too well-kept houses. Near the aula we wondered what sort of tree stood there on the lawn with paper-white blossoms. We took it as read that it was a kind of prunus. After the music of Bach and coffee with cake we returned to the home of the deceased. Behind it the grass was covered with forget-me-nots, or so we thought. A former teacher was able to tell us however that it was periwinkle. Out of cut glass we drank the whisky to which the deceased, once a lighthearted taster, had given preference. | |
Original title: 'Kennis der natuur'- From the collection: 'De wimpers van de dageraad', 1987 - Uitgeverij De Arbeiderspers, Amsterdam |