A Henslo

A Henslo Jan 2020

Freedom, fairly generous at first glance
Is being bounded more than once
By freedom others have obtained
Which, as Popper well explained
Entails the Paradox of Tolerance

If the hatred that some preach
Or the intolerance they advance
Must fall under the stance of Tolerance
Are being tolerated as Freedom of Speech
It will inevitably wreak —

The end of each

AH 2020
Sir Karl Raimund Popper (1902-1994), philosopher and academic

A Henslo Jan 2020

January 1

I'm too exited to sleep tonight
with everything
wholly new

A Henslo Nov 2019

At the Gate of Heaven

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A Henslo Oct 2019

Saignant

While cycling past the charming little deer park in our community I notice that the animals behave restlessly, and make a haunting, complaining sound. I look back over my shoulder, and count only five or so deer on the whole park. A few yards later my conclusion is crystal clear. The majority have been abducted this week by City Hall employed robbers, in the middle of the night when most inhabitants of the adjacent retirement home and most toddlers are asleep. My knowledge of deer life is defective, but these must be children searching for their mother or mothers searching for their children. Cherishing a rather naive image of nature, this will take a lot of swallowing next week at Chez François when I order my deer steak, bien cuit, à point, or saignant.

AH, October 2018

A Henslo Oct 2019

Abends will ich schlafen gehn

Got a tender kiss and a nighty-nite
Watched my mother dim the light
Enjoyed the warmth of my bed
Didn't need no angels yet
Made it safely through the night

What promise holds the nightly sky?
Venus, Virgo, Libra, Mars
Odd angelic shooting stars
How many do I need to die?
Who's taking care at my goodbye?

"Abends, will ich schlafen gehn", title of a traditonal German bedtime prayer from "Des Knaben Wunderhorn" that made it into "Hansel und Gretel" (1891), fairy-tale opera by Engelbert Humperdinck with lyrics by his sister Adelheid Wette.

ABENDS, WILL ICH SCHLAFEN GEHN

Abends, will ich schlafen gehn,
vierzehn Engel um mich stehn:
zwei zu meinen Häupten,
zwei zu meinen Füßen,
zwei zu meiner Rechten,
zwei zu meiner Linken,
zweie die mich decken,
zweie die mich wecken,
zweie die mich weisen
zu Himmels Paradeisen.

A Henslo Aug 2019

L'exil n'a pas d'ombre - Jeanne Benameur

EXILE HAS NO SHADOW

I walk I walk.
I walk You walk.
Are we walking?

This road is not a road.
A road guides footsteps
like the alleys of a village lead somewhere.
To a well
a house
a place with a name.

Nothing leads me.
Are these my steps
paving the way
and making the road?
Is it because we don't know
it is endless?

I lost ground.
I'm walking on something I don't know.
I'm afraid.

Sometimes I see
in the distance
the shadow of a house.
It's my house?

I walk
and there is nothing.

French English transposition by A. Henslo 2019

First page of an epic poem in which a long walk in uncharted territory can be seen as a symbol of life. A walk to infinity after you have left the trusted parental nest. L'exil n'a pas d'ombre, by Jeanne Benameur, Éditions Bruno Doucy, 2019. ISBN: 978-2-36229-204-0.

L'exil n'a pas d'ombre

Je marche Je marche.
Je marche Tu marches.
Est-ce-que nous marchons?

Cette route n'est pas une route.
Une route mène les pas
comme les ruelles d'un village mènent quelque part.
À une puits
une maison
un lieu qu'on nomme.

Rien ne me conduit.
Est-ce que ce sont mes pas
qui créent de la route
et de la route?
Est-ce que lorsque'on ne sait pas
c'est sans fin?

J'ai perdu la terre.
Je marche sur quelque chose que je ne connais pas.
J'ai peur.

Parfois je vois
dans le lointain
c'est comme un ombre de maison.
C'est ma maison?

Je marche
et il n'y a rien.

A Henslo Jul 2019

Lines to a Persian Cat - T.S. Eliot

VERS VOOR EEN PERS

De hemelzangers trekken allemaal
Naar de groene velden van Frankendael.
Onder de struiken bestaat geen rust
Voor het suffe brein, de sterke lust
En de schielijke ogen van Pluizenbaal.
Er is geen bevrijding zonder lijden.
O wanneer is het knarsend hart moe?
Wanneer geeft de krakende zetel toe?
Moet deze zomerdag echt verscheiden?
Wanneer zal de tijd voorgoed verglijden?

English Dutch transposition A. Henslo 2017
Original poem by T.S. Eliot 1932

LINES TO A PERSIAN CAT

The songsters of the air repair
To the green fields of Russell Square
Beneath the trees there is no ease
For the dull brain, the sharp desires
And the quick eyes of Woolly Bear.
There is no relief but in grief.
O when will the creaking heart cease?
When will the broken chair give ease?
Why will the summer day decay?
When will Time flow away?

#eliot #transposition #dutch #english