Intro - Deliverance, into your hands - Silently the slumber

Post Reply New Topic

Bevrijding

Zachtjes trekt de sluimer aan de kabel.
Plichtsgetrouwe schokjes en de slaper schrikt
steeds even op, tot hij de hete zon ontzinkt,
ineens bevrijd door Alexanders sabel.

Zachtjes roeit de sluimer de rivier op.
Wilder wordt de droom: hij woelt onrustig
in zijn vlucht - voor de kapers op de kust is
hij te snel - en breekt de branding in galop.

Zachtjes drijft de sluimer met de eb mee.
Het kabbelen wordt traag, reusachtig deinen
dooft de zinnen. De geest duikt naar de lijnen
die het lichaam heeft gelost in open zee.

Zachtjes drijft de sluimer op de oceaan.
De slaper is nog maar een hand, geopend
voor een fletse zon die op het water lopend
vrede geeft aan wie in slaap is opgegaan.

Zachtjes legt de sluimer aan, de slaper
wordt door diep besef geraakt: hij weet
nooit meer te hoeven weten, dit heet
eeuwigheid, de diepe vrede van een slaper.


Dit wil ik u gegeven weten... oops, sorry, slip of register assignation...

THIS, then... was written by a close friend of mine, a long time, a lifetime ago it seems, which is not all that long in terms of literature, but in a life? How many deaths can a life suffer over the time since it was written?
It was never officially published, but i have this little handmade brown hard cover booklet lying at my desk (o? do i?)(well, maybe i know it by heart - hm... maybe not, i need to remain honest - but i could show you, and one has to be precise, when it comes to art, when it comes to art of words spellbound in the eternity of text.

Let's say it's by way of a welcome gift. A gesture to mark my return, and reintroduction.

Welcome I hope, back in the privacy of your room, your desk, this... your monitor screen, and welcome you here, acquaintance whether old or new, in my thoughts, at this my time... no private inner sanctum my mind be, welcome... without you... there would not be this, there would not be i.

I do apologize for making you click an english topic header only to find... but you have seen there is something yet for your perusal. I could have opened with one of my translations and let you climb on, and in, at the deeper end. But the original had to take precedence.
Sadly, also, i must confess i have nevereverever been 'happy' with any of my attempts at translation, it just seems to lose... whatever it is it seems to lose, whether i use punctuation and caps or not. I am deeple aware that this one again has already been proven to be open to... repair? and again... at what cost?
Ah, "the scent of higher honey was embittering the bees"


deliverance

softly does the slumber pull the cable
dutybound each gentle shake the sleeper starts
up – until from under the glowing sun he sinks
at last at once cut loose by alexander’s sabre

softly does the slumber row onto the river
the dream turns wilder unsettled he stirs
in his flight outrolls the pirates on the coast
too swiftly and agallop breaks the surf

softly does the slumber glide a ride along the ebb
the babbling turns to sluggish slow enormous
rocking deafening the senses the ghost is diving for
the lines the body has let go in open sea

softly does the slumber float out on the ocean
the sleeper is no more than just a hand – opened
to a feeble sun which awalking on the water
passes peace to whom went up in sleep

softly does the slumber turn to moor the sleeper
is hit with deepest of awareness he knows
never to have to know no more this is called
eternity the deep resting in peace of a sleeper


Maybe more than any more or less 'anonymous' public, it seems to me an autistic reader might more easily appreciate these slow moving lines, the horizontalness, the flickering of the sun reflecting, the whispered silence.

I think I need a break. It has taken me hours to get this, getting used to the new looks of the site and all that. I had intended to have more to say... Indeed, it seems... i have a plan. Isn't there always an agenda, hidden or not. So i hope you enjoyed the poem.

Hey oblio welcome.

Hi RoadRatty one, thanks for the sun you brought yesterday - it was a cold and grey and rainy day here in Clogland. Today is much better, just right, not warm even... and... quiet... the weather is sunny but mainly quiet.

I just bet you noticed a sorry entry in this forum with no replies... I used to do that. Appreciated ;]]
I remember a ratty nickname at a Spades site I used to frequent in the intermediate years. Only proved my liking for .... o so many ratty things... Roland, Ratzenburger (no fan of Ratzinger), but really my taste is music...
I think you may like my punky tooth. In the area where I now find myself back living, I was the one who discovered The Stranglers, IV Rattus Norvegicus. It wasn't the punk in the end that closed the deal... I heard the third number... the blues one, the princess of the streets...

Too young to really be there when I would have wanted, too old to really turn punk when it came. Yes, I saw Woodstock The Movie, but what does a ten, eleven year old know... Neither did I live in say Amsterdam or The Hague, the two places really where some of it really happened in these parts.
The Beatles may have been my first love, and may only have consumed my first Velvet Underground after Lou went solo, but I do identify, strongly, as post-hippie, very very post. We may have dressed like hippies, we took it further than just that, in a sort of satirical vain, and mostly 'we' were beer drinking non-native farmorforestland bluesrockers, and we only really took our "stickies" of pot to decrease the more expensive requirement of beer.

I will need the little brown leather book again, having spoken of the close friend who came up with that poem above. It carries a square black stick-on patch of some black material, in golden capitals it says PROMETHIUM. This, of course has to be a pseudonym, and it is, and for now that has to be as much identification as you will get. He was never sure if he wanted to be remembered the one poem poet, or leave his marker anonymous, having left no trace... bar that poem... or maybe even just the final four lines.

There is time for some more, and it is time for some more.
Even the english speaker ought to be able to get his or her tongue around the first one of this little tryptych (yay i learned a new word today), not much more helplessly than the bewildered dutch speaker.
The entire thing has a separate title page, with dedication:


p.m.c.

(voor de goede verstaander)
(en voor het groot woordenboek van de nederlandse taal)

[[ for the good reader (lit.: "understander" ; as expression has it the good reader needs only half a word ]]
[[ and for the great dictionary of the dutch language - this can only mean the so-called Van Dale dictionary ]]


At third look the entire three-fold thingie would seem to consists of three poems of 14 lines (4-4-2-4), set however in the template form of a letter... snail mail indeed... the 14 lines are preceded by an address, preceded by a location & time. The finish "Vaarwel, Pm" follows the 14th line, and leaves little doubt. One might wonder a while before deciding the top, where a title might have been, carries a musical instruction... to play this... mezzo piano indeed "half softly"

It helps to properly read out loud and just let rhythm and sound do their stuff... poetry doesn't have to mean anything, or does it... Whether it does or it doesn't, it may not have to but it will. And the address "Lieve" means "Dear"


m.p.

MC, pm.

[Dear] Lieve Cm,

C.p.
P.C.
p.c. der [of the] m.P.
p.c. in p.m.

p.m.: Pm
[has] heeft p.m. p.m.
m.c.
M.P.

Curieus dat Cm met Pm
niet zeldzaam aardde c.M.

Pour moi het m.P. C.m.
van een P.C. van
P.C. en een C.M.

Vaarwel,

Pm.

[[next page, first translation: abbreviations in full]]


mezzo piano

Monaco, post meridiem

Lieve Curium,

ceteris paribus
pour connaissance
par couvert [of the] mijlpaal,
pour condoléance in piae memoriae.

Pro memoria: Promethium
[has] plus minus propria manu
mio conto
manu propria.

[Curious how] Curium [with] Promethium
did not rarely earth currente mense.

Pour moi het maalpeil [the milling level] conto mio
[of a permanent commission of]
patres conscripti [and a]
candidatus ministerii.

[Farewell],

Promethium


I did use this first translation to help the english reader, without too much having to look elsewhere, get more of the sentence flow. You will have understood how i used my square brackets to indicate either added translation, or even replacement of dutch by english. Knowing "my" dutch reader as i do, i promise you, as is, you understand more of this multilingual purgatory than any clog i know. S/He may be more at ease with the third helping...


matig zacht

Monaco, na de middag

Lieve Curium,

onder overigens gelijke omstandigheden
geef ik kennis van ontvangst
onder omslag van de mijlpaal,
tot rouwbeklag in zaliger gedachtenis.

Om niet te vergeten: atoomnummer 61
heeft min of meer eigenhandig
op eigen rekening
aflevering in eigen handen verlangd.

Curieus dat Curium met Promethium
niet zeldzaam aardde in de lopende maand.

Voor mij het maalpeil op mijn rekening
van een permanente commissie van
beschreven vaderen en een
candidaat in de godgeleerdheid.

Vaarwel,

Promethium

I promise, I checked it once myself, there is not the one original word in there, it's really is all more or less straight from this Van Dale's indeed "Great" Dutch Dictionary. There is one crucial extra letter, in "aardde". Aarde, as in aardvark, is earth. There is a meaning-relationship with earth-ground-nature-character. By using an extra d, the noun was turned past tense verb... In the context, "to earth" would indicate people can 'earth well' with one another, i.e. connect truly, find their ground, their home, one in the other... and yes, grow from there, flourish, prosper indeed.

This took a hell of a lot of precise typing. I am so tired now... Hope to see you... Wish you were.... o my blond shining scarlet pimpernella, my sweetest of janes, i seek thee here, i seek thee there, i seek thee everywhere

Yours, aspiciously

your pink chameleon, your oblio retired, your... me

"my only vice is the fantastic prices
i charge for being eaten alive"
(Steve Harley, The Human Menagerie)




xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Welcome to Wrong Planet!

OMG i just lost my entire next contribution

this is ridiculous,

when working on a post.... is there any way it gets saved while not published, as in autosave draFT????

omg I BLOODY lost 5 hours of translating and careful composing, this is pathetic

i am so tired

So let's see if I can save this day, it was good until i lost all that work. Time then for a rant... hoping that typing about these things right now, when the storm is far from over, will not annoy me back into my outrage at.... things...

Please, believe... the situation i found myself in, and still do... well, yes, i could choose to have more of a life in real life. But there really is not much for me around, let's say in terms of the kind of volunteering things i could do. In practice, i also feel, rightly or wrongly, but quite deeply... i feel wronged...
I have worked so hard so long for so little pay, for the pay of indeed a volunteer's ample expense account... and this still includes teaching... and indeed for state-organized courses, but yes... outsourcing, the free market and all that.

In Netherland... oops... maybe the day will be saved, a short intermezzo:
I checked my passport and yes, it is indeed the Kingdom of The Netherlands (plural), but in the reality of ages... nobody in Holland will ever actually say The Netherlands. One thing that always annoys me is how the plural seems to require the article... You can say just "Netherlands" - it seems to demand the unelegant The-addition. This is one reason why many turn to using the incorrect name of Holland. Holland, that really is just the west coastal area, i.e. the two provinces North- and South-Holland. The more southern coast province of Zeeland is very much a case apart, historically too. That by the way is where the original rising against the Spanish started. Anyway, this here is my text, and even if i have worked as a translator and dealt with legal documents where such things are important, and you can't always get what you want, or how you want it, i will here write my language. So, as i have always advocated the world ought to follow the Dutch and simply say and write Netherland.
I do make my share of typos (typo's? typoes?) and do not mind sitting corrected - but i assure, my spelling is fully thought through, and my transgressions of any grammar and spelling will be intended. My usage of i in stead of I is one example. I go out of my way at times to decap. And at times there are reasons for using proper caps. So even if i seem inconsistent at times, and i will acknowledge i am, there might still be consistency at deeper structural level.

Netherland, then, has a working status called the zzp-er. These are independents without personnel. I was one before the term existed. This legal position is fine for those who have the kind of work with decent or better hour rates. They will have to pay all the rest, premiums for pension, insurances, illness whatever. There is an ever growing segment at the lower income end... these people have gotten fired because for instance the now privatized postal service got sold to some foreign organization or any other "restructuring" of i believe still the same function... The state has sold out on the social contract, labour law is getting ever more "flexibilized" (this is by definition always in the favour of the bosses)(they are the ones needed to pull us out of the crisis, aren't they just), and the state doesn't need anymore unemployment benefits taken. We aren't even discussing special-needs folk like us, not yet... pfffft

So such people, workers who once had a steady job and did fine - the are sent packing - but... they get rehired, in the privatized situation of a temporarily hired contracter. Please remember... this zzp-er, now being a privatized independent entity, has to pay all the things involved in his work, including the car.

Things are by no means as bad as i gather with the development of the "precariat" in the U.S. of A. where people need two or more jobs to simply survive, but we are closing the gap. We on the continent, Europe, i mean the EU, we still seem to love England setting this ideal of individual liberty and the free market... the EU has completely sold out to this kind of thinking way before the euro was introduced. But England, and us continentals, seem hell-bent on following the Armorican example of what is mistaken to be capitalism.
I will have things to say about that... and i will at some point be making the case that IF i were a veryvery smart aspie with interests of politics, ethics, philosophy, morality, economy, art even... IF i were such a person, and IF i were born in Russia and had in my twenties fled what resulted from the revolution... I might very well have come up with an idealized "philosophical" system labeled "objectivism" and base on that a defense of capitalism as the unknown ideal, and a defense of "the rich". Ayn Rand got a lot right, but she got more wrong and she missed a couple of crucial points. I can't really blame her, these are exactly the kind of points an aspie might be predicted to be poor at. Her view is theoretical and lacks an eye for real life - it lacks empathy and the wisdom that may come from that.

Back on the original track. Believe me: I could come up with plenty ideas, but the way things are, and me not with the wherewithal to gain sufficient control... i do feel as if there really is nothing for me out there, in real life. That leaves me with this weird thing called the net.

I am so not one of the exact-minded aspies... no digital skillz here whatsoever. And the typing... two fingers, and hitting, and mishitting, o and here is the real killer...
i have such poor visualizing capabilities... i could hardly describe this screen if i closed my eyes... so when i type i have to look at the keyboard, i simply cannot see what i am typing... so i miss typos and anything, i don't understand what just happened when i must have hit CTRL, or worse, ALT...

I feel myself fully dependent on this online computing... but i despise DESPISE everything related with computers. It is such an incredible struggle. I feel totally out of my water, and out of my depth... i need to focus, concentrate on other things, but the computer won't let me

So you can imagine what happened when i wanted to finish and submit the intended post above, and clicked the tab... only to see it was no longer there... can't believe it... did i really hit the fffffffffffffffffing X....

I cannot believe I found the energy to right this post to save my day... meh

"Deliverance". Wonder-filled. Thank you for sharing this

Right at this moment, Kate, kiss me... for i kiss thee

thank you saying that, it means very much to me
i feel you got what i feel in dutch it has, and doesn't quite achieve in english

someone read it, someone was touched, my effort was not in vain

thx ;]]

lol... to lol or not to lol eh.... O Lady Language i do apologize, we know not...

just realized in time to add in edit:

Someone once read it and fell asleep. Paul was always so proud of that, he would become the only writer ever to be proud of having made someone fall asleep.

I realize it must be bad manners to 'up' my thread like this, just adding to my own stuff, but as said above... there is more than one agenda here, there is a point.

I am still hoping to see some old acquaintance, but more to the point i am hoping some new faces may show, new to WP that would be. It would be nice at some point to see my nieces say hi, we found you - they lost their father, my brother, when he was 44, i am 59 now so that makes it thirteen years ago. He never knew but i am sure he must had asperger's too, his presentation in fact would have been much more according to 'standard' - or better 'professional prejudice'.

Remarkably, he was also a born athlete. I have many many doubts as to even professional descriptions of autism. "Sporting" abilities do not figure high on the list of possible aspie traits. Our clumsieness (this has to do with a weakness in the propriosepsis) would seem to not predict success at sports. However, i can create a long list of very successful sportsman who to me would indeed show autistic tendencies. And i won't stick with Louis van Gaal for an obvious candidate (not a great footballer, but a grrreat if misunderstood coach, teaching and coaching are well within autistic reach, i will venture into unexplored territory... how about Arsenal's non-flying dutch god, Dennis Bergkamp, there is just something about his technique... and other stuff. And how about Holland's great philosopher football genius Johan Cruijff, his contributions to TWO languages are as sort of wrong as they are legendary, and nobody will own up admitting he understands what the man means, but apparently it is very deep, but i am sure they will think me mad if i claim to understand... lol, how more aspie can you get. How about Jimmy White? McEnroe? But i will save that for later savouring.

Next, well, hm. how to address this... I have met someone. At a somewhat dubious site. I am being a fool, i know it well, but i have nothing to lose - she fell for my writing... and well... right from the get go... things just happened... so fast that i have to assume at least that part of it was really really and truly real, it just has to be... but there are all sorts of issues. A site like that brings all sorts of complications, i promise you - don't try this at home kids. And certainly if you have asperger's. So much ambiguity even when not intended --- and text only --- o my o my --- misreading does not require aspiness, and when exchanging mail (not chat grrrr) you find you just replied inappropriately to two short mails from her you hadn't seen before you clicked Send...

There are so many technical issues to this, and then you haven't even begun to address the real developing texting relationship, which you find yourself addressing anyway, as that is exactly what is tabled. Can "love" be without lovers having heard each other's voices, seen each other in the eyes, smelled each other, tasted each the other...
Do i find myself i love with her, or with my image of her, and related yet separate, does this mean i am falling in love with myself, as seen as she says????

Okay, so i have a plan... this thing we have is very on-off, much more off than on too, measured in time... we restarted a few days ago, and before i know it, just as i was expecting her to finally have her evil digitalized way with me (virtual yes, but o so unvirtual), i make this innocent remark taken personally... and this is my second day in the dog house....

My self-deprecating sense of irony is just... It's not having field days. It's reinforced and conscripted, it's not on excursion, it's out on a let's get robert real good this time campaign, and it is throwing all these books and films at me, and i am fighting with Nabokov (and sorry, nope, i don't think Romeo and Juliette will be there - only as sung by Lou Reed in Legendary Heats), and Peter Seller's being there doesn't help me at all - it's cruel, but it's what keeps me going, and made me creative too.
So yes, I will be writing. I am still waiting out this weird week of things suddenly shifting to and fro, this time she hasn't blocked me so that's a good sign [grrrrrr] - and i am using the time also to consider where to start this writing... This will be art aimed to come true in reality - it ought to be main board. Or does it? Hm...
I am not looking to be read only by those who click the Arts board, i am actually in need of, and inviting interested outsiders to join if they feel they have something to contribute. And please feel free to debate, i am not looking for support (well i am) - i just never liked a mutual admiration society, pffff. That sort of also rules out the over 30s board, and there could well be stuff not for public consumption... so should it be in the members-only and age-appropriate board. Problems, problems. I guess, things will work themselves out, and i appreciate that... well, i should be so lucky to even reach any stage at which the thread would require moving...

But what happened to the Blogs. We used to have a blog-facility. I left notes there too... Gone...
And with the aim of this writing in mind... Blogging would at least circumvent the problem of the editing time-out [?]. Then again, who read the blogs anyway... so Blogging would exclude in practice...

I am glad I am not quite ready to get properly started, and suddenly, though back in the dog house right now... i may well find myself having to start a thread that has reached its dream-goal even before it started - but it will in any form be a great story to tell, at least i think so

to think... first, she fell for my writing, then she inspired me for the first time in my life to actually and really write... with heart and soul that is, if you will, with purpose, with style, with ME at my bloody best however poor that might be

even if she will never show again, let alone here, at WP - she made contact with a part in me i knew might have been there but thought dead and gone, or comatose and irrelevant for future consideration - and the way i feel for that...
I have always felt "gratitude is the most difficult emotion" -
now that i actually feel it, and feel so much more,
must it really be life's irony that i find me found by one who makes it so hard for me to undergo this warmth and acceptance, to live this gratitude...

The word stone never broke any glass

This, then, is all for you, this is not me, this is me to become, and to become in your eyes, and therefore this be you...

I am not worthy...
And i apologize to be... too wordy