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.
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 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
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