ill word that by the dialog
onus grows in force then forgotten
is in word trouble
it called gears thereunder
cracked mind cracked wit
fan the moon
it lit in day
no witness of the sun
a hand for the mule
a hand for the grappling
witness of hope
cracked mind gears
locked
shut my own
come herein
locked locked locked
ill word
weird word locked
locked
blind
as in bed that night native
might is
locked
cracked
meant in gladness
cracked meant in blood
locked gears mine the hand
of the mule
an ill word that is silk scriven soft
by dialog of night gears in four dingy photos
in words too foolish that are locked in light still
***
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo: “Today, I’d like you to write a “translation” of a poem in a language you don’t actually know. Go to the Poetry International Language List, pick a language, and then follow it to a poet and a poem. Generally the Poetry International website will present a poem in its original language on the left, and any translation on the right. Cut and paste the original into the text-editing program of your choice (and try not to peek too much at the translation). Now, use the sound and shape of the words and lines to guide you, without worrying too much about whether your translation makes sense.”
The language I chose was Frisian–from a portion of the Netherlands. The poet was Tsead Bruinja. Here’s the original poem; the title link will take you to the real translation. (Sorry, the spacing keeps getting a little off.)
elk wurd dat ik by dy dellis
oan `e grûn en foar dyn fuotten
is in wurd tefolle
it kâlde gers derûnder
krekt meand krekt wiet
fan de moanne
it leit in dei
no wachtsje op de sinne
en hân foar de mûle
en hân foar de grap
wachtsje op hoe’t
krekt meand gers
laket
sjocht my oan
kom oerein
laket laket laket
elk wurd
wier wurd laket
laket
bliid
as in bêd dat noch net op
makke is
laket
krekt
meand en glêd
krekt meand en bliid
laket it gers mei de hân
op de mûle
en elk wurd dat ik skylk skynber sêft
by dy dellis op it nije gers en foar dyn djoere fuotten
is in wurd tefolle dat laket en laitsje sil
Karin S. Wiberg 