To spit…

…or swallow?

There’s this joke – if the bird of peace is the white dove, what would be the bird of love? The swallow…


So not what this post is about! Sex is quite possibly the furthest thing from my mind right this minute!

I’ve had a conundrum today. To sit and sniff the whole day with not much noise, or to blow and blow until I blow my brains out. Only to have to repeat the routine not ten minutes later. Fuzzy head. Old man that writes like a crab and scratches things out, and then blames me for letting things out or getting the words wrong – silly rabbit!

Hence the question – to blow? Or to swallow?

I suppose I can always sniff sugar – won’t help for the cold, but at least my mucus will be sweet 😉

back to real life though.

I promised a few people a translation of the song I posted last night.

It’s a poem by one of our more famous poets – Ingrid Jonker. Sung by Laurika Rauch – one of out better known artists.

So, here goes.

OP DIE GROEN VOETPAD                                                          On a green foot path
VAN DIE HORISON VER                                                            Of horizons far
OM DIE AARDE SKAT,                                                                around earth’s treasures
STAP ‘N OU MAN WAT                                                                walks an old man
‘N OOP MAAN DRA IN SY HARE                                             he wears an open moon in his hair
NAGTEGAAL IN SY HART                                                         a nightingale in his heart
JASMYN GEPLUK VIR SY OOP KNOOPSGAT                     jasmine in his open buttonhole
EN ‘N RUG GEBUK AAN SY JARE.                                           and a back bent by his years
WAT MAAK HY, MAMMIE?                                                       what does he do mommy
HY ROEP DIE KRIEKIES                                                              he calls the crickets
HY ROEP DIE SWART                                                                   he calls the black
STILTE WAT SING                                                                          silence that sings
SOOS DIE BIESIES, MY HART                                                    like the bullrushes, my heart
EN DIE STERRE WAT KLOP                                                            stars that knock,
TOK-TOK LIEFLING,                                                                        tok-tok my love
SOOS DIE KLEIN TOK-TOKKIES IN                                            like the small beetles(tok-tokkies)
HUL FYN-VER KRING.                                                                   in their far, fine ring
WAT IS SY NAAM, MAMMIE?                                                   What is his name, mommy
SY NAAM IS SJUUT                                                                       His name is shht
SY NAAM IS SLAAP                                                                       his name is sleep
MENEER VERGEET                                                                        Mister forget
UIT DIE LAND VAN VAAK                                                           From the land of Nod
SY NAAM IS TOEMAAR                                                                His name is there-there
HY HEET, MY LAM                                                                         he’s called, my dear
TOEMAAR, DIE DONKER MAN                                                   There-there, the dark man
MAMMIE…                                                                                          mommy…
TOEMAAR, DIE DONKER MAN                                                  There-there, the dark man.
Here’s the song just so you can follow the words as you read them…
And on that note, pardon the pun, time for me to try to get to sleep. And hopefully, be less under the weather tomorrow.
Long days and pleasant nights…

27 comments on “To spit…

  1. I doubt he’d take responsibility for his mistakes. I used to go to be boss, ask him what the word was and when he replied I’d say “Oh, is that how it’s spelled?” and laugh. he he he It doesn’t work if they don’t get the sarcasm though…

    • I don’t think this one would appreciate it even if he does get it.
      Gives me the meaning of the word adjust yesterday. Quite a patronising ass if you ask me, but hey – such is life 😉

  2. Just got home from work and came to see this. How about adding a decongestant to the equation of to blow or swallow? An over the counter one that wouldn’t be contraindicated for you? Just saying. About the words to the song: never would have guessed them in a million years. Thanks for taking the time to translate. She has a lovely voice, the singer, and it was kind of nice to not understand what was said. Hope you are feeling better by the time you wake up and read this. Paulette

    • Unfortunately not feeling better today Paulette. Feeling worse – just hoping it’s the worst and then it will get better.
      Glad you liked the song 😉

  3. Nice translation. A side line? Pretty song, Ghia.
    Hope your headcold is gone soon.
    About the boss, had one, when asked what some of his scribble was, said, “Use your imagination.” Then he complained when it didn’t turn out to his liking. (ha ha)

    • Glad you liked the tune Tess.
      Wish I could translate things for a living – that would be so cool!!
      Bosses – can’t live with them, can’t shoot them 😉

  4. What a lovely language. The imagery. I confess I didn’t understand the old man reference being to work… I thought perhaps you felt like the old man from the song… laughter. oops.

    • Oh, I will say that if you can find them, we’ve got a product called “Breathe Right,” which are strips you fit over your nose at night (wouldn’t wear ’em in public) – instantly opens your nose and you can breathe immediately! Lovely thing, but highly unflattering, especially if you have a small face.

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