Versadig met u Goedertierenheid

Herinneringe aan Hoër Meisieskool Stoffberg
aan die Oosrand - Juffou Malan en haar fyn
ideale - Juffrou Kok haar getroue adjudant -
Saalopening, ons sing die Onse Vader in drie
stemme: standard nege meisies sing alt, ma-
trieks sing deskant, ek gloei van vreugde en
trots om in ‘n Keurboslaanskool te wees

O Goedheid God’s Hier Nooit Volprese – die
deskant vleg en weef tussen die sopraannote
Prys Die Heer Met Blye Galme soos ‘n wa wat
wiegend voortbeweeg, die skool as spraakkoor
wat Daar het ‘n Doringboompie resiteer, Vlaktes
Gras en Drie Peperbome, Vlaktes Gras en Twee
Peperbome, Ek Sien Haar Wen

O Christus Diepst’ Verlange met orrelbegeleiding
toe ons ‘n plaat maak in die stadsaal - kerkkoor
Sondag met Loflied van Maria - Met Middernag
Keer Feest’lik Weer Die Stonde, Ave Verum in die
skoolkoor onder Meneer Wim Willem-Steyn, ons
sing O Donau so Blou met AL die herhalings
Engelse klas by Juffrou Rita Prinsloo

Come Into My Parlour, Said The Spider To The Fly
op band opgeneem, ook probeer om Psalm negentig
op band vas te lê omdat ons dit uit die kop moes
leer, vers vyf bewys hoe moeilik dit was om outydse
verse te onthou: Weggespoel Het U Hulle, Hulle
Word ‘n Slaap – maar Juffrou Malan het ons
vinnig uitgevang

Versadig ons met u goedertierenheid, Here, my
bergvesting - vandag klink die 1933-vertaling
so soet in my ore...

(Juffrou Malan op 96-jarige ouderdom, dankie aan
Anneliese Koch wat die foto verskaf het. Ons was
Altwee in Stoffberg Meisies, ek het haar geken as
Anneliese Kallmeyer.)

[School memories: I attended Stoffberg Girls High on
the East Rand and was thrilled by the fact that my school
resembled the fictitious school created by Theunis Krogh
in the Keurboslaan series so much, I adored Miss Malan,
our Headmistress and her adjudant, Miss Kok, loved the
traditions and singing and recitations, learning Psalms off
by heart, trying to use a tape-recorder to hide the fact
that we did not know Ps 90, school choir singing Ave
Verum and Blue Danube under Wim Willem-Steyn,
Church Choir on Sunday, English class with the
always delightful Spider and Fly...

Hereafter a list of the original songs and verses as far as I can
remember them, I will have to find the complete original sources
somewhere – in the original Afrikaans and broken Latin of Ave
Verum – I only remember the melody well, the words
I make up as I go.]

***********************************************

Ek sal die woorde van my bronne moet soek, al wat ek kan
onthou van my skooldae is die volgende:

**********
Die Onse Vader
O Vader wat woon in die hemel, geheilig sy U naam,
mag u ryk kom, u wil geskied, soos in die hemel so ook
op die aarde, gee ons vandag ons dagse brood en vergewe
ons onse sondes soos ons die vergewe wat teen ons sondig
lei ons nie in versoeking maar behoed ons van die bose....
want aan U behoort die rykdom en die goedheid en die ere...
vir ewig en ewig, amen!

**********
O goedheid God’s hier nooit volprese, wie word daardeur
nie diep getref, hoe snood ondankbaar is die wese wat nie sy
hart tot U verhef, aan U alleen sy dank en ere, laat dit my lus
my lied hier bly, Vergeet my siel dan nooit die Here,
want nooit vergeet die Here my!

**********
Prys die Heer met blye galme, o my siel daar’s ryke stof, sal so
lank ek leef my Psalme vrolik toewy aan sy lof, en Hom wat sy
guns my bied, altyd grootmaak in my lied!

**********
Daar het ‘n doringboompie vlak by die pad gestaan,
waar lange ossespanne met sware vragte gaan...
...druppel die salf van eie gom...

**********
Ek sien haar wen, want haar naam, is vrou en moeder!
**********
O Christus Diepst’ Verlange van elke sterweling,
U het weleer ons sange...

**********
Loflied van Maria
Want van nou af sal die geslagte, al die geslagte
my salig noem, omdat Hy die nederige toestand
van sy diensmaagd aangesien het, en my siel is
verheug, en my hart is verheug, my siel maak groot
die Here, my siel maak groot die Heer - Want Hy wat
magtig is – het groot dinge aan my gedoen en heilig,
heilig is sy naam, barmhartigheid vir die wat Hom vrees
van geslag tot geslag, vir die wat Hom vrees...

**********
Met middernag keer feest’lik weer die stonde, toe God
as mens neergedaal het op aard, om te bevry die mensdom
van die sonde, sy volk te red van die dood en die swaard,
en nuwe hoop vervul die hele aarde toe daardie nag gebore
is die Heer, Kom almal saam, verhef jul stem na bowe, dis
Kersfees, dis Kersfees die Heer daal tot ons neer, dis Kersfees,
dis Kersfees, die Heer daal tot ons neer!

**********
Ave Verum Corpus – Mozart

Ave, ave verum corpus
natum de Maria Virgine
Vere passum immolatum
in cruce pro homine.
Cujus latus perforatum
undda fluxit et sanguine.
Esto nobis praegustatum
In mortis examine
In mortis examine.

http://artists.letssingit.com

**********
(Op die wysie van Die Blou Donou)
O Donou so blou, wat gly, wat gly, deur veld en vallei, ...
In Wenen daar sal jy ook bly, sy wil jou, hulde bring
Nooit vind jy waar jy ook mag gaan, ‘n stad wat by haar
haal, dus word van alle tye, jou lied’re toegewye...

**********
Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly,
‘tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy
Oh no no, said the little fly...

**********
Psalm 90 – Verganklikheid van die mens
Here, U was vir ons ‘n toevlug van geslag tot geslag...
U laat die mens terugkeer tot stof en sê: Keer terug,
o mensekinders! ... Want al ons dae gaan verby deur
u grimmigheid, ons bring ons jare deur soos ‘n gedagte.
Versadig ons in die môre met u goedertierenheid, sodat
Ons kan jubel en bly wees in al ons dae.

**********
Psalm 91 – In die beskerming van die Allerhoogste
Ek sal tot die Here sê: My toevlug en my bergvesting,
my God op wie ek vertrou.

**********

Lines Screeching Like Scratching Nails

Oh my delightful life, the one-eyed
Cyclopian Troll Interpol presented
us with a list of notices

A Red one for provisional arrest of a
person, a Blue one for location of a
possible criminal

A Green one for criminals who operate
on an international scale, a Yellow one
to locate persons gone missing

In true Bermuda Triangle style, as well as
a Black one seeking information on dead
bodies for a horror movie effect

The French Foreign League insists on
appeler l’attention of the police while
the English simply alert them

Suddenly the Foreign League becomes
streamlined and ‘visées individus’ while
English gains weight with

‘Individuals who are targets of’ – well now
who makes the rules to determine which
formulation to use - targeted

Would have done fine for me – I shall
never be an existentially content
translator; this game

Where idiosyncratic taste determines what
changes will be made never meets with my
approval, I prefer singing melodies

Every musical sentence in my translation is
changed according to meaning, not sound,
ignoring the rhythm of the sentence

Lines screeching like scratching nails…

Love You So Serenade

Beautiful music played on the radio, first
heard as a child I am filled with memories,
a musical story woven in repetitive themes
different characters in each melodic phrase

Waited to hear the composition’s name, never
bothered before, simply formed part of my life
‘Haydn’s Serenade’ - wrote down the notes of
the first line for reference in easy conversation

**************************************

Then memory stirred, I used to croon loving
words to my babies on this melody, a single
phrase in refrain ‘And I LOVE you so, kerchum’

- that is how we remember this piece...

*************************************

http://www.music-scores.com/midi.php?sheetmusic=

Haydn_Op3_No5_Serenade_obpno

Joseph Haydn: Sheet music for Serenade.
Andante Cantabile from Op.3 No.5, Quartet
No.17, for Oboe and Piano.

Listen – Nina and Frederik

Living my life to the accompaniment of
a song in my head, I mostly remember
the refrain, hubby and the kids live in
perpetual discontent as I keep singing
the refrain playing in my heart

Looking up lyrics on the Internet to learn
the words, maybe then I will be allowed
to sing my songs at home, one of the best
is ‘Listen to the Ocean’ by Nina and Frederik
it keeps turning like a broken gramophone

In my head, over and over, enchanting
rhythm, words divine, melody sublime:
‘Listen to the ocean, echoes of a million
seashells, forever it's in motion, moving
to a rhythmic and unwritten music

That's played eternally…’

******************************

LISTEN TO THE OCEAN
Nina & Frederick – 1960
(Nina Möller / Frederik Von Pallandt)

There's a world of sun and sand
Full of sky and far from land
Where evening breezes caress the shore
Like a gentle comforting hand

Fragrant blossoms, honey bees
Careless laughter upon the breeze
And lovers fading to pools of deep
Purple shadows among the trees

Listen to the ocean, echoes of a million seashells
Forever it's in motion
Moving to a rhythmic and unwritten music
That's played eternally

The sound of a seagull's distant cry
His wings like parentheses drawn in the sky
And two white birds clinging like foam
To the crest of a wave rolling by

The silence of noon, the clamour of night
The heat of the day when the fish won't bite
These are the things that remind me of
The day you sailed out of sight

Listen to the ocean, echoes of a million seashells
Forever it's in motion
Moving to a rhythmic and unwritten music
That's played eternally

Rosigfyn Van Kleur

Jy behoort aan my, o skone land
die lentebloeisels sluimer nog
waar die heiderosies blom, sag
suisend in hul droom

O jou kleure, mooie blommeprag, word
groetend blom vir blompie toegelag
as die maan opkom oor die velde
my heideland gegroet wees jy

‘n Duisendmaletal, jy is my liefling
dan voel ek so lief vir die wêreld en
die sterretjies skyn in die lug, en ek
weet jy my liefling is terug, my hartlam

Laat my langs die heide wandel, waar langs
boompies en groen weiland nuwe lentebloeisels
blom, elk knikkend met sy koppie, my liefling
slaap langs die silwerstroom

Sy’s ‘n perskeblom, rosigfyn van kleur, maak
jou buiging, vat haar hand, lei nou
heen en weer...

FAK Potpourri Deel II
(Dis seker wat Ophelia sou gesing het in haar
verwarring toe sy verdrink het, in Shakespeare
se 'Hamlet', en Hamlet so liefdevol verklaar
het: "Ophelia, I shall not cry for thee,
thy had too much water...")

Fyn Soos ‘n Vlinder

Liewe maan jy seil so langsaam deur die
awendwolke heen, jy’s so rustig en ek
voel my, o so eensaam en alleen

Pêrels en lint, kamma-kamma; sy en satyn,
wie sê dan so, kamma- kamma, wie sê dan
so, bootjie na Kammaland

As jy kamma-kamma voel ons is vir mekaar
bedoel en jy sê dan kamma-kamma ja… Hoe
sag gly ons bootjie en wieg heen en weer

Verbeelding is stuurman, hy sit aan die roer
en wys ons die weg wat na Kammaland voer,
dis Oos van die son en dis Wes van die maan

Die land waar die jonkheid mos nimmer vergaan
fyn soos ‘n vlinder, sag soos satyn, niks sal
ons hinder, onder die bome loop ons en droom

Lieflike drome langes die stroom, o, liefdesuurtjie
waar is jy nou, o liefdesvuurtjie, sterf jy so gou-
gaan my gedagtes liefling, na jou, ja na jou

En neem my liefde mee – wag sy, al die liefde
in haar hart stuur sy jou waar jy ook rondswerf
as sy saggies na jou roep - kom terug na my…

Al kan ek jou nie roep nie, dan sal ek vir jou wink
en antwoord gou my liefste, voordat ek my bedink
spoedig kom ‘n nader een, vir wie ek dan sal wink

Al die burgers kom tuis en sy soek langs die ry, vir
‘n lang-lang verwagte gesig, hulle kom, hulle gaan
nou is almal verby, uit haar wese verdwyn al die lig

Waar ek gaan gaan jou beeltnis, my liefste, alom,
maar my hart laat ek ewiglik hier, as ek kom, as ek
kom – hy sal nimmer weer kom, nimmer weer kom

Net verlange en hartseer kom weer - kersie brand
sag en flou in die stroopblikdeksel nou, oor die
donkerblou hemel rys daar skriklike wolke…

FAK Potpourri Deel I

(Die liedjies is deurmekaar geroer, ek weet.)

Fiendish Delight In Colloquial Speech

Forgot about my sore mouth, attacked a
banana with gusto, nearly injured my-
self, immediately throttled back my
energetic attack

taking small bites, chewing softly, not
moving my jaws very much, my poor
tongue, even after two of the deadly
super-strong painkiller pills

my tongue is still too sensitive to with-
stand movement in the mouth area, al-
though it has not stopped me from
exchanging jokes with Hanlie

complaining facetiously about the
detrimental effect the authors of
Afrikaans youth series like Trompie
and Saartjie had on me

causing me to take fiendish delight in
using informal, colloquial speech where
formal language is required, the absurd
contrast between official context

and uncouth diction a never-ending source
of amusement to me, though it has already
severely retarded my development as a serious
translator of important documents…

A Social Pest All by Myself

Huh, sitting in the open plan office
is just like being a nun, listening to
the small noises of women, all the
FLEAS* are female, oh happy day -
sighing and clearing their throats
eating softly, rustling papers
in an elegant way

While I, local barbarian, chew loudly,
close drawers with a crashing explo-
sion, burst into wild laughter, push
my chair back with a crash, jump up
and down, climb onto desks to fix the
blinds, shout questions at my nearest
neighbours, ignore everyone

With headphones on my ears, getting
angry at their noise while inflicting my
own loud presence on them; oh, for
some privacy to be a social pest
all by myself…

**************************************

*FLEAS = Foreign Languages, English and
Afrikaans Section in the National Language
Service (NLS) of the Department of Arts
and Culture (DAC), South Africa

My Darwinian Day

No you ape, goes my voice talking to myself -
oops, hubby says it is not nice to call people
apes, therefore I should stop doing it to my-
self - then I won’t call other people apes to
their face, Hanlie says why not since we
are descended from a race of apes,
besides it amuses us so much

Imagine an intellectually challenged ape sitting
in front of a computer and you see me, I’m not
bright like the Librarian Orangutan at Unseen
University, clumsy and confused, easily duped
the new super-strong drugs supplied by a
dangerous doctor yesterday who poked
the root canal hole mercilessly

Are taking the last vestiges of my lightweight
conscience away, I cannot concentrate with two
kinds of antibiotics and strong painkillers cir-
culating in my system, truly an ape today,
proud of our simian ancestors, much too
lazy to frighten myself into obeisance
happy to play with the tie

I borrowed from hubby without his consent
it changes my ape outfit into an elegant
ensemble, as hubby disapproves, it
adds challenge and adventure, just
the right ingredients to light
up my Darwinian day…

Turning Into A Lady

Oh my, the abscess is turning me
into a lady! I have to eat soft food,
cannot open my mouth, take small
bites to spare my injured tongue

Eat meditatively, ruminating quietly,
I feel elegant, one abscess and I
acquire some religion, polish and
decency, feeling almost willing

To meet up with strangers, though
it would be too much, a hunchback
syndrome à la Quasimodo is ready
to jump out amongst strangers

My speech would give my origins away
my incessant noise will reveal the genes
of my Attila the Hun forebears, I will stay
here and revel in the feeling of

Refinement in deportment and composure
smiling at everyone, especially since
hubby’s tie borrowed without permission
elicits positive comment everywhere...

My Passionate Involvement

At least you say ‘shut up’
in the nicest way, explaining
why you cannot cope with my
stentorian voice droning on and on
my interminable descriptions of an
inner life that leaves your neutral
sphinx-like self in confusion

The mercurial fluctuations of my
emotional life, my love of physical
pain, concomitant spiritual ecstasy,
it is too much, you need someone like
yourself to keep the calm, the Eternal
Peace your soul longs for, not my
passionate involvement

With all things in life, not my songs
flowing forth in a suffocating stream,
I understand, you need not explain, I’m
just glad patient paper can receive my
melodramatic effusions of love and pain,
most of all, I love my inner world where
my characters can act out

Greek tragedies and Baroque horrors that
fascinate and delight my inner eye, while
you are the root of life, anchored in reality
cool and smooth, even keel, the wind under
your control; you only shout and jump around
when the forces of nature and destiny escape
your strict control; which is all the time

But your inner fire is controlled, I am much
obliged that my barbaric attitude to life
has not yet driven you away…

The Mind’s A Sacred Place

“Show off your fans! Build an audience
show the world who's listening…”

Oh scary thought…

Good grief, don’t people know
the act of observation changes*
the phenomenon being observed

Just shining a small light upon the
action causes a difference; how can
anybody create truly from the heart

When so many eyes are influencing
them? Probably market forces demand
that things meant to be popular

Should be created in the public eye
but for me, the mind’s a sacred place
full of private thoughts and dreams

Watching strangers watching you in
performing death-defying stints on a
movie screen sounds right

But writing down the contents of your mind
requires something else, celebrities live
life as a public show, enjoying attention

But they can hide inside their minds, while
poets dissect their minds in public; need
to hide their physical being

To counterbalance the effect of letting
thoughts and feelings all hang out; at
least, it works that way for me…

*Quantum physics:
The particles of light striking the minute particles
being observed, changes their nature and movement,
what will the light particles do to the poet when light is
shone upon his mind? It might fry his thoughts, warp
his feelings…

Posting Hunger Poems

Another obstacle is becoming clearer
I can’t eat or have anything sweet, as
hungry as a wolf, when I chew the pain
becomes unbearable

To find something salty, soft and pliable
to sip to stop the growing feeling of hunger
maybe this abscess will have the more
worldly effect of

Making me lose weight, what a joy that
would be – but I’m hungry, need to find
something filling or I will start posting
hunger poems all over the Internet!

Contrite While Pain Lasts

Nothing like the blessing of an abscess
to make me repent, while it is throbbing
I feel bad about every nasty word I have
ever said, the religiously uplifting effect
won’t last long I’m opting for antibiotics
tonight, then I’ll stop feeling contrite

For laughing at stuck up snobbish English
expressions, stiff upper lip pronunciations,
I felt guilty when the boss called me in to
give a rendition in my imitation English
accent, everybody laughing with me at
the caricature I had drawn of

An innocent colleague, quite a sinecure
for what ails us at the office, but at the
expense of an innocent victim – at least
I’m contrite while pain lasts, maybe I’ll
earn a few hours in heaven this way –
until I start laughing again, I suppose…

27 July 2009

A Million Fathoms Deep*

So many religious songs living in my
head - declared my favourite to be
‘Jesus wants me for a sunbeam’

The Pharisees were shocked, I shoud sing
‘From a million fathoms deep*, far from
help, where hope is lost in despair

I cry unto thee, Oh Lord’ or ‘Kumbaya’ and
‘I’ll Walk with God’ by Mario Lanza – but
I still sing ‘Sunbeam’

When I dash about in a fast car, feeling like
a sunbeam of bright, happy light!

[See translation of songs quoted at end of
Afrikaans poem.]

*****************************************

Uit Dieptes Gans Verlôre*

Ai, die gesangverse wat in my kop woon
‘n nimmereindigende stroom, sommiges
sal nooit religieus korrek werk nie, ‘Daar
waar in vlekkelose wit die Koning van die
wêreld sit’ is nou eenmaal deur Surfadver-
tensies oor skitterwit wasgoed gekaap

Eenkeer het die uwe ewe ernstig aan gods-
diensfanatici verklaar my gunstelingliedjie is
‘Jesus roep my vir ‘n sonstraal’ - A nee a,
het die beterweterige Fariseërs my betig, jy
is nou mooi groot en halfpad dood, kies
nou ‘n grootmenslied – Ek was vies

Moes seker ‘Uit dieptes gans verlôre, van
redding vêr vandaan, waar hoop se laaste
spore, in wanhoop bly vergaan’ gesing het
of dalk ‘Straf tog nie in ongenade, my mis-
dade, Heer, verdra my met geduld!’ eintlik
‘n nog beter keuse sou seker wees

‘Rus my siel, jou God is koning- ieder woelt hier
om verand’ring, en betreur dit as dit kom...’ of
dalk, synde almal die Ingilse taal orals insleep
om grênd te wees, moes ek ‘Kumbaya, my lord,
kumbaya’ voorgedra het – of selfs ‘Unto thee, oh
Lord - let not mine enemies triumph over me’

Synde ek my midde-in ‘n Sanhedriese addersnes
bevind het; as ek mooi dink, moes ek ‘I’ll walk with
God from this day on’ gesing het, die vyand se
teenwoordigheid het duidelik bewys net die
ou duiwel figureer in my lewe, die heel beste
keuse sou seker gewees het

‘Wondergena, algenoegsaam selfs ook vir my, dieper
dan die see van my oortredings, sing dit, groter ver
dan al my sond’ en blaam – PRYS sy naam!’ - ‘Wil
tog nie in toorn ontsteek nie en U wreek nie op my
sond’ en sondeskuld...’

Na diepe bepeinsing en jarelange mymering oor
hierdie netelige kwessie sing ek nog steeds klip-
hard terwyl ek zirts in my vinnige blits: ‘Jesus
roep my vir ‘n sonstraal, om elke dag te skyn’ –
omdat my bloublitsstraaljaagtogte my net soos
‘n sonstraal laat voel!

**********************************************
[* From a million fathoms deep*, far from help,
where hope is lost in despair, I cry unto thee,
oh Lord; from deep, dark nights, please
harken unto my cry for pity]

* Uit Dieptes Gans Verlôre, van redding vêr vandaan,
waar hoop se laaste spore, in wanhoop bly vergaan,
uit diep van donker nagte, roep ek, o Here, hoor,
en laat my jammerklagte tog opklim in u oor

**********************************************
Hallelujaliedjie: [Children’s Song]

[Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam - to shine every day,
to please him is all my yearning, though my light is weak,
let me be a sunbeam for aye!]

Jesus roep my vir ‘n sonstraal om elke dag te skyn,
hom te behaag is my strewe, al is my liggie klein,
‘n sonstraal, Jesus roep my vir ‘n sonstraal,
laat my ‘n sonstraal steeds wees!

**********************************************
Ou NG Kerk Gesangeboek: [Old Church Hymn Book]

[‘He is high and praiseworthy, see city and hill
shimmering in sunshine, and Zion to the North
glowing beyond the reach of words, the Lord of all
immaculate in white’

- This song has been appropriated and corrupted by
washing power advertisements.- ]

Hy is lofwaardig en verhewe, waar berg en stad
in songlans bewe, en Sion teen die Noorde, blink
bo die lof van woorde, daar waar in vlekkelose wit
die Koning van die wêreld sit, het hy wat teen die
vyand waak, as rotsburg hom bekend gemaak.

**********************************************
[Don’t punish my misdeeds in cold judment, oh Lord,
be patient with me, don’t visit vengeance upon me
and my guilt in your fury]

Straf tog nie in ongenade, my misdade, Heer, verdra
my met geduld! Wil tog nie in toorn ontsteek nie,
en U wreek nie, op my sond’ en sondeskuld.

**********************************************
Kerkkoor: [Church choir]

[Be at peace, oh my soul, thy God is King,
all are clamouring for change, but regret it
when it comes, yearning to see new things,
but long for what is lost…]

“Rus my siel, jou God is koning, rus my siel,
ieder woelt hier om verand’ring en betreur
dit as dit kom; hy verlang na wat hy sien sal
wens wat hy eens had weerom...”

**********************************************
Kumbaya:

Kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya, oh Lord, kumbaya
Someone’s singing my Lord –
Someone’s praying my Lord – etc.

**********************************************
Unto thee, oh Lord, do I lift up my soul, oh my God,
I trust in thee, let me not be afraid, let not mine
enemies triumph over me.

**********************************************

I’ll walk with God - Words: Paul Francis Webster

I’ll walk with God from this day on, his helping hand
I’ll lean upon, This is my prayer, my humble plea,
may the Lord be ever with me. There is no death...
His hand will guide my throne and rod...

**********************************************

Evangelieliedere: [Gospel songs]

[Wonderful mercy of Jesus, covering all my sin,
how can I describe this, where shall my song begin,
wonderful mercy of Jesus, I am freed of sin, ‘cause
the wonderful mercy of Jesus reaches me.

Wonderful mercy is the work of Jesus, deeper than
the sea and free, wonderful mercy, all-sufficient,
also for me, deeper than the fathoms of my sinful
deeds, all sing, high above all my sin and guilt,
rejoiceth in the lovely name of Jesus,
PRAISETH Him!]

Wondergena’ van Jesus, wat al my sond’ omring,
hoe sal ek dit beskrywe, waar sal my lof begin,
wondergena’ van Jesus, ek word van sonde vry,
want die wondergena’ van Jesus, reik ook my.

Wonderlik genadewerk, die werk van Jesus, dieper
dan die see en vry, wondergena, algenoegsaam, selfs
ook vir my, dieper dan die see van my oortredings,
sing dit, groter ver dan al my sond’ en blaam,
o roem verhoog die dierb’re naam van Jesus ,
PRYS sy naam!

*****************************************

Only An Older Brother

I found him again, my brilliant brother
clever and discerning, explaining the
world to me

Laughing at my jokes, understanding my
sorrows, helping me through dark patches
haughty when he need be

Superior and self-confident, the way he should
be since he is the leader, an admirable person I
can look up to

Teaching me patience and wisdom, pointing out
the smallness of my limited perspective, opening
new horizons

Blazing new trials, I follow willingly, ready to learn
admiring great minds like his, loving the feeling of
security that only an older brother

A godlike being like him, can ever give!

26 July 2009

Peter Pan Of Neverland

My brother was singing, playing guitar, a wonderful
demi-god in my eyes, I worshipped my brothers when
I was young, they could do anything, sing and play
instruments, fix bicycles and electronic equipment
construct walls, explain everything to me,
show me what books to read

We listened with smiling eyes as he made fun of ‘If I
could be anything I want to be, anything under the
sun’ with the most enchanting lilt in his voice, then
he had us in stitches with his rendition of ‘Een
aand op die trein na Pretoria’ in irreverent imita-
tion of ‘Tant Sannie Briel’

Only my mother frowned, dark outside, Christo, her
eldest son, my childhood hero who wrote beautiful
essays, explained geometry and syntax and sang like
Mario Lanza, was not home yet, Ian played and sang
to comfort my mother; then Christo stormed in like a
whirlwind, been robbed

Ian’s performance was triggered by the fear in the
atmosphere, it worked beautifully, he steered my
mother through terrible fear, he seemed to be
Peter Pan of Neverland, forever young and
full of fun, never growing old and sour…

26 July 2009

Nothing Is Non-Controversial (1st rev.)

[I have been blessed by an abscess that
surfaced again after being purged by a
dentist; spent the day drugged, reading
the illustrated ‘Last Hero’ by Pratchett]

Hughnon Ridcully knew of two thousand
gods moving in and out of fashion like Om
a vengeful deity in a passionate country
who became top god

By NOT answering prayers in such a dynamic
way, he created the possibility that one day he
might, then fireworks of grand magnitude
would ensue, such a novel technique

To gain eternal fame; Hughnon Ridcully,
Chief Priest of ‘Blind Io’ the leader god in
Dunmanifestin, the god’s abode, was very
impressed by Om’s success

Hughnon knew gods don’t like ecumenicalism,
believers should never pray all at once, nothing
is non-controversial in religious circles, some gods
forbid eating broccoli – the perfect religion for me!

Other gods require women to wear dark clothing
covering their beauty never to inflame the passions
of men, other religions happily worship shortbread
biscuits, how marvelously absurd…

Terry Pratchett « The Last Hero » illustrated by
Paul Kidby; Victor Gollancz edition 2002

Quatations from p. 64, p. 17 (Dunmanifestin),
p. 65 (ecumenicalism)

25 July 2009

To Martin: Your Love Is True

Enjoyed the sensation of little explosions like a
strange hammering in my mouth, happily went
to a dentist, root canal, all was well

Later insistent pain like acid eating into my brain
I stopped speaking, an all-time first - you saw the
pain burning, scalding my mouth

You found an emergency dentist, took me there: you
did it again – took the reins when I allowed pain to
gallop away with me, thank you

Thank you for everything, for not sending me out to
take care of myself, after all my complaints about
little things, you showed your integrity

I can depend on you totally, you have never left me in
the lurch when I lost control, the bigger the problem,
the better you do, showing our differences

Are unimportant, what you have done, the moment
you saw I could not go on, proves that your love is
true, we can trust in you

Thank you so very, very much!

25 July 2009

Love Never Runs Out

She viewed his unhappy account
smiled and replied from her heart,
a feeling of unfettered freedom, an
emotion of unconditional love know-
ingly manacled to duty and obligation,
dreaded the never-ending routines which
tethered her need for adventure and challenge,
made her a mute maid-servant, reveled in her
new-found freedom from slavery; sent him this reply:

My love for you cannot run out, I‘ve loved you always
you’re suffering illusions of misery, your affection is
requited every second of my earthy life and my love
will endure for eternity

My love was smothered by needs of duty and routine,
my soul missing; my spirit could not serve without
freedom to do things spontaneously, I did not need
illusions of romance, fleeting and ethereal, momentary
desire, fluctuating passion that plays itself out
in a few hours

there are no impossible dreams; all we need is a focus
on visions of freedom – especially for me, the hard-
working serf, I had to become your equal to be free

Fairy tales sustain me as they focused me on wisdom
and idealism, respect and freedom, fairy tales taught me
love without insight leads to the loss of essence of life,
mythologies have their place as archives about precession

Fantasies using my imagination visualize new circumstances
in which I am free, offer my love freely without being serving
girl of another, your vision of pain behind a mask of unrequited
love after my serving you so many years reveals you do not
understand I lived in the discomfort of slavery for so long,

paying with my services for protection and love, lost ability
to feel love as an unconditional feeling divorced from
expectations and duties determined by domestic servitude…

I prefer to be free, even if it means separation
in order to be me, but my love will endure
forever…

You Can Only Silence My Voice (2nd rev.)

you complain my propensity
for disparate comparisons
is not acceptable

I’ve no right to compare things thus
may not claim Sophia Loren is more
beautiful than anyone on earth

or that Min Shaw’s voice
enchants more than all other
Afrikaans female vocalists

But for me it is the case, I shall
whisper my opinion: Sophia Loren
is the most beautiful woman alive

all others pale in comparison –
I prefer the sunshine in Min
Shaw’s untrained voice to

husky, alto chords with sober
sounds that OBSCURE the sun;
you cannot stop me thinking so

Though I may not tell you so, my
thoughts remain free, you cannot
tether my mind – only silence my
voice…

Reminiscence: Vonk de Ridder*

Laughing joy into the daily routine
reminiscing about Vonk de Ridder
dramatic Knight clad in Black, a
series of photo books

I liked Captain Devil*, crying on the
last page about his lost heroine, he
lacked the subtlety of a true hero
the love of his life always died

Every last scene showed him drunk and
contrite – we all read these melodramatic
stories, a fund of humour for freshman
comedies presented slow-motion

Sometimes based on The Pink Panther
and Staal Burger* with Willem and Dada
and all those lovely girls in mini-skirts
called “Doedie-van-my”

In Daan Retief’s inimitable voice…

******************************************************
*Vonk de Ridder: Ben Swart, photo books, fictional
hero wearing black called Vonk de Ridder

*Captain Devil: Fotoreeks bekend as Kaptein Duiwel

*Staal Burger –1961 - 1974, written by Fanus Rautenbach and Daan Retief.
Staal Burger - Daan Retief Koos van der Merwe - Mike Heine (Agent K-O-O-S)

Dada Diedericks - Miems de Bruin

Radio Pretoria, The Middle Ages

Listened to Radio Pretoria tonight, took
us back sixty years in the past, oh, the
communists, just like Guareschi’s Little
World of Don Camillo, complaining about
socialist inefficiency

Happily ignoring the fact that capitalism is
alive and well in the South Africa of two
thousand and nine, people out of touch
with reality, the same smothering self-
centeredness that irked me at school

The same euro-centrism that strangled my
spirit at university, the enlightened thinkers
and philosophers blazed a trail of survival
that enabled me, white Afrikaner, to breathe
freely, embracing all races

Enlarging my views, I discovered Eastern
spiritualism holds the answers lacking in
cold, self-congratulatory Calvinism, over-
comes the destruction of Catholicism,
shows the true way of the soul

Read “Rape of South Africa” while still at
school, broke away and realized our racial
diversity is the saving grace, now Radio
Pretoria wants to return to the Middle
Ages, how discouraging that some

People are stuck in the past forever and
never move on…

Semi-comatose in a semi-drugged state

All disease is psychosomatic
I feel it in my own body, when
I’m excited and interest confers
a rosy glow, I feel healthy, alive,
creating a new story is a delight
that makes me feel energetic

But when doing something
boring, my head grows sore,
allergic sinus manifests in a
manifold symptoms, I feel
nauseous, fatigue pulls me
down, I swallow a dozen pills

Can only deal with the creeping
illness by taking medication, how
do most people deal with their
boring lives? Oh, most take anti-
depressants, Prozac, Ritalin, any-
thing a psychiatrist

Can force on them, they don’t
work for me, I need painkillers
to suppress the discomfort that
cripples my brain as ripples and
explosions short-circuit my
thinking processes

The lack of emotional stimulation
and creative action is only bearable
when I am semi-comatose – most
people also live their lives in a
semi-drugged state…

22 July 2009

Paid Assassins At Human & Rousseau

Checked the long-awaited book on my hero
Dr Serfontein, even more macho and tough than
James Bond himself, more handsome also, with
high moral principles, full of integrity

Excitedly looking for my favourite passage –
Oh NO! - a moron, a complete and utter idiot
has removed it; the pivot of the book, left all the
stupid, non-essential bits

Deleted the most important bit of philosophy
that became my lodestar ideal: “Beauty is not an
inherent feature of anything, beautiful interpret-
tation takes place in the observer’s mind”

I bought the book for this one sentence; now the
book is useless, meaningless, the most wonderful
insight destroyed by an over-zealous editor –
I always knew that editing was an evil deed!

I HATE the paid assassins at Human & Rousseau
who destroyed my storybook!

******************************************
Theunis Krogh [Stella Blakemore] "Jong Doktor Serfontein"
Keurboslaan-series Human & Rousseau 2009 - NB Uitgewers
Kaapstad– Abridged, maimed, killed. Dead.

Mr Schoonbee explained to the protagonist’s brother who
quoted Kipling on a woman being only some skin and hair
over bones, that Dr Serfontein’s love for opera singer
Wanda Svoboda originated in the his own beautiful mind:

“Beauty is not an inherent feature of anything, beautiful
interpretation takes place in the observer’s mind.”

Without this sentence, the book loses its essential value that
made me return to it for inspiration and encouragement.

An older edition still contains my favourite passage:
JL van Schaik Beperk, Pretoria 1973, p.17

Martin sê: ‘...’n Lap, ‘n stuk been,en ‘n string hare,’
soos ou Kipling dit min of meer beskryf het. Maar
vir daardie twee lummels was dit soos die gedig
lui: ‘But the fool he called her his Lady Fair.’

Mnr Schoobee antwoord: ‘Sulke gevoel kom uit
die man self, nie uit wat hy voor hom sien nie,
my seun...’

Sweet Heroine & Evil Femme Fatale

Our James Bond movie took a new turn
the air-con is set for winter, warm air is
pouring into the open-plan office redu-
cing us to doing a strip-tease every day

Coming from outside temperatures of 2
degrees Celsius into 24 degrees at least,
one air-con vent is set to spew hot lava
air every hour or so, how much

Can one strip off and still remain decent,
in the movie the sweet heroine and evil
femme fatale will strip off everything,
James, obviously charmed

Will remain cool, calm, fanning himself
with a device that Q developed just as
the film started, the device explodes
blowing the cat-loving criminal master

To smithereens, James orders a shaken
Martini to sip while pulling the sweet
Russian heroine into his arms – I’m
the evil femme fatale who dies in agony

Because I tried to kill James through
the hot air system…

Fairy Dancing Down The Street

Danced, floated down to the library
one-two-three, one-two-three on the
nostalgic melody of Barcarolle, one-
two-three, keeping time with dainty
fairy feet, doesn’t matter who sees
me waltzing by, one-two-three, I am
the accompaniment, a fairy dancing
down the street, shimmering in a fairy
dress, long, golden tresses floating
in the wind, one-two-three

I am the wind in the reeds, my song
swaying up and down with me; bought
another library card to replace the pre-
vious one, floating back to the office on
the magic tune of clear flute notes so I
become a singing doll, ‘Les oiseaux dans
la charmille’ singing in my ears, Olympia
falling down, wound up again, dancing
on, chromatic scales up and down, sit-
ting still, listening one last time

Before I open my documents…

Enchanting Visions

Cannot fit more work into the work I
have to do, snatching moments to play

Spice up life with dreams, when boredom
makes it impossible to lift my feet, I create

Enchanting visions of magical people in new
realms beyond the present universe, godly

Beings who do and feel things little people
only dream about, I send my characters

On fabulous journeys through the multiverse
meeting Ridcully from Unseen University

Play being Esme Weatherwax, dream about
Tiffany Aitching, but would never dare

To play her role, though I have a heroine who
does not hesitate to fill her dreams with

Tiffany's sweet essence…

A Musical Memory Lane

Chanson du vent - Ek verlang na jou

Die tyd hardloop uit, ek staar na ‘Enfants
que vent empore’ of ‘Kinders van die wind’
in Frans, nog mooier is ‘Tonton avait une
ferme en afrique’ wat eintlik ‘Stuur groete
aan Mannetjies Roux’ verteenwoordig; ‘En
sëen my ma en seën my pa’

Ek wil graag luister na ‘Côte Atlantique’ of
soos ons dit ken, ‘Blouberg se strand’ gesing
deur Laurike Rauch, ‘Epis d’eau’ oftewel
die nimlike ‘Waterblommetjies’ – brrr, die
waterblommetjies wat ons in die Kasteel
aan die Kaap geëet het, was bitterrr

Maar die mooiste van almal is ‘Chanson du
vent’, ‘n vertaling van Sonja Herholdt se ‘Ek
verlang na jou’ – destyds in vervoering toe ons
dit die eerste keer gehoor het, Sonja se stroop-
soet stemmtjie wat ‘Waai wind, bring hom
terug na my’ so betowerend gesing het

‘O ek verlang na jou, na die winde wat sy arms
om my vou, so verlang ek as die son en die wind
en wolke oor my gaan’ – ek verlang na die stemme
van weleer, na die sonskynstem van Min Shaw,
nooit geleer om reguit op ‘n noot af te duik nie,
altyd met ‘n snik en ‘n draai

By die note uitgekom, maar haar ongerepte stem
in ‘Min Shaw Sing Minsaam’ – ‘Ek is Klompies-
Klomp en ek werskaf rond om die skoene klaar
te kry…’ en ‘Nie ‘n steek, hele week, vir my splin-
ternuwe trui…’ en ‘Die Heidelied’ saam met Gé
Korsten, ‘Jy is my Liefling’ met Danie Bosman

‘Aandlied - die rose se geur vul die nag…’ - al het
sy nooit sanglesse geneem nie, haar stem was die
ene sonskyn en goue stroop vir my, waar Carike
Keuzenkamp se hees, kontemporêre stem die stoere
korrektheid van die Nederlande verteenwoordig,
sonder dat ‘n glimlag ooit deurslaan

Het Min Shaw se stem geglinster en gedans met
‘n duisend sonstrale, die helderheid van fonteine
en die kabbeling van waterstroompies fonkelend
daarin, net soos die Doedies wat ghoemmaliedjies
‘Jy was steeds ‘n baie-bietjie-babie’ en 'Ek was
‘n lawwe meisiekind’ so soet

In my kinderoor gesing het…

*****************************************
Matthys Maree het Afrikaanse liedjies in Frans laat
vertaal deur Naomi Morgan en Maud Myra sing 13
daarvan, opgeneem deur Matthias Heimlicher.

[13 Afrikaans songs have been translated into French,
sung by Maud Myra and recorded by Matthias
Heimlicher, this information set me floating
down a musical Memory Lane…]

Cric-crac And Flic-flac

Safely ensconced in my chair working on
geological mapping in Burkina Faso, already
a bit bored, arrived at 06:45, been here an
hour, maybe some breakfast then marching
through the day; listening to "Les Contes
d'Hoffmann" recorded by Nici, not sure one
can concentrate while these people belt out
their songs, clic-clac, cric-crac the tenor
goes in my ears, definitely time for eating,
flic-flac everyone sings now, shall I be
able to translate with the cric-crac and
flic-flac accompanying my thoughts?

Edita Gruberova is singing Les Oiseaux
Dans La Charmille (Doll's Song), I’ve lost
it completely - cannot carry on translating
with heaven in my ears, triangles and bells
violins and flutes, a harp, total delight…

Barcarolle, fairies dancing in a circle, little
girls of seven years lightly dancing on their
toes – long hair, wide diaphanous dresses
fairy glitter all around them…

James Bond & Riddick

James Bond movies - tonight’s edition
of From Russia With Love – are meant
for consumers – I’m an avid consumer
of James Bond movies

Always ready to hang on Sean Connery’s
lips, admire the heroine, weave a new
dream around the Bond framework, no
work or reading done

Tonight is filled with fun, Chronicles Of
Riddick* coming up, his voice, his mag-
nificent poise, everything conspires to
create the ultimate hero

I LOVE getting swept off my feet by
movie hero’s; sharing the aberrations
of 21st century consumer society…

* Vin Diesel in “Chronicles of Riddick” and
even more enchanting in “The Pacifier”.

Speel Soveel Jy Wil [Go Play]

Ek vlug van die wêreld
[I flee from the world]

Ek vlug na die beelde in my verbeelding,
enige karakter, so mooi soos Angelina
Jolie, so aantreklik soos Brad Pitt in Mr
and Mrs Smith; kan op enige planeet,
met groen mannetjies, wakker word

Die temas van eensaamheid, eksistensiële
vrae - waarom is ek hier, en morele keuses
voordeel en nadeel van elke besluit – werk
ek uit deur my karakters in vele avonture te
plaas ; ‘n Gotiese melodrama

Klink skoon flou as my karakters eers begin
dans - stokflou moeg kom ek tuis na ons
inkopietog, my heldin deur die smeltkroes
gestuur terwyl ons wasgoedseep, vleis
en groente koop

Ek wou ernstig werk by die huis, skryfwerk
bekyk, korrigeer en redigeer, maar my brein
weier – As jy wil werk, skakel ek af - dadelik is
my kop leeg, my hart gesluit, ek skrik - Nee,
NEE! Liewe brein, maak soos jy wil

Fantaseer en droom, ek wil nie werk
nie – net speel!

[English Summary:
I flee from the world into my imagination -
when I wanted to work, my brain switched
off, I begged it to switch on again, promising
it the freedom to do anything.]

Cabernet Sauvignon, Shiraz & Merlot

Saturday lost in a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon
Shiraz and Merlot, I should stop, allergy reaction
showing already, wine meant to enrich the venison
dish makes me feel depressed

Cannot eat the venison containing MSG, curry and
Worcestershire sauce, while the others feast, I eat
bland vegetables and when they drink wine, I have
diluted vodka, cannot enjoy life without a diet

Food determines my mood, living life within the
confines of these restrictions is fine, life is quiet
but enriched by my imagination given free rein…

18 July 2009

A Government Official’s Life…

Tonight pressure became too much, took
the nail clippers and attacked my hair - soft
and feathery, growing too long, I want a fringe

Found new anti-breakage conditioner turning
my hair into fishing-line, looking awful feeling
even worse, old-fashioned translators of

Boring documents should look awful, except
Hanlie, archangel, who always lights up as she
smiles , the only make-up that works for us is

The way we laugh about life’s absurdities, Jane
is astonished - our barbarian African ways are
too much for a refined English lady

She is not used to hard manual labour breaking
her back like the rest of us, our pioneering spirit
makes us tough

She did not know that backache and injury
form part of a Government Official’s life…

History Repeating Itself

When and how and what was it that
got me addicted me to words - an un-
ending stream of sounds, symbols of
meaning - so addicted, life without
verbalization can’t be visualized

Yesterday a new official sheet loaded
with codes which did calculations
renewed my soul, gave me new
hope for life; today I failed, could
not keep my eye on a star up high

Mozilla-Firefox is my future, DAC’s
Intranet, presenting forms unen-
ding to be filled in, on my desk
long documents informing us
of five-year agricultural plans

As if taken directly from the books
by Heinz G. Konsalik & Giovanni
Guareschi – history repeating
itself…

Necessary For A Quality Life

Sitting alone at home, kids watching TV
hubby sleeping, lamenting the lack of time
to do everything people deem necessary for
a quality life – sitting here with a facial scrub
of green goo on my face, Tiaan running off
disturbed by my appearance –

Don’t have the time or inclination to visit
beauty parlours - had an appointment once
to get my nails done - realizing I couldn’t hold
a book for reading while they worked on my
nails, I ran away with a false excuse… I cut
my own hair tonight, too impatient to wait

For a hairdresser; my time is restricted by the
allergy – when I feel ill, I can’t do anything,
must work double as hard when I’m well
to hide the lost periods and omissions
of time…

Creative Fun As Existential Premise

Developed a perfectly entrenched headache
it does not wince or go away no matter what
drugs I throw at it, it is the just result of eating
too much fat, my stomach in revolt, my eyes
little slits, my joie de vivre is below zero and
falling still

I don’t understand a word in my document
don’t care whether I get fired or killed, head-
ache growing worse, why does everything I
eat change into an enemy while other people
munch blissfully on anything that comes their
way, I am

Caught and locked in the concentration camp
called my body; were I but soul, mind without
encumbrance, not the incumbent of this earthly
body, life as pure awareness would have been
bliss; existence as a human animal is not
working very well

I must fulfil spiritual duties, follow every spiritual
path, complete all emotional growth because I
refuse to return to earth through reincarnation
from here I wish to become consciousness fo-
cused in an extra-sensory dimension, physical
life is not

Conducive to the creative fun and happiness
I want to experience as existential premise…

My Own Mount Everest

14 July 2009

I am suddenly possessed of a spirit of
incompetence worse than usual, the
mining and agriculture job to be done
seems insurmountable, my own Mount
Everest - I am not Sir Hilary, don’t want
to brave the cold of those long, incompre-
hensible passages, don’t want to research
every boring word, read strange terms over
and over - even had toothache tonight, a sure
sign of my system in revolt, I cannot concen-
trate at work, the boredom of agriculture takes
my little energy away, I end up staring at the text
guilt feelings brewing in my breast – until I get up
and run away, talk to anybody

Who might need a friendly voice, look at pictures
on the Internet – five words of my document, and
the clock stops completely, time freezes, everything
comes to a standstill… ...how to force myself through
the pressure cooker of this document, those I have al-
ready done must be corrected, sent for checking, read
again; there is something wrong with me, cannot force
myself to do the expedient, financially advantageous thing,
always in need of a ‘ criminal-against-inter-subjective law
and requirement of the day – attitude’, though Jane fol-
lows every rule assiduously, I try to break them all, leaving
nothing inviolate, simply because I cannot keep the rules –
break one is tantamount to breaking all of them, since I
always break one, I democratize by breaking all of them
as soon as possible….

A Hat With Cupboards

Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor, wore a
special wizard hat with small cupboards,
telescopic legs and oiled silk in the brim

Becoming a small tent, a spirit stove, inner
pockets containing rations, liquor in the
unscrewed tip for emergencies

With this James Bond from Unseen
University I would love to see the world
nothing would ever find him unprepared

The only gadget I rebel against is the
mouse in the treadmill on his head, the
mixture of honey and manure he rubs

On his bald spots – on second thought,
this is one James Bond that had better
stay within the pages of a book…

Terry Pratchett “Lords and Ladies”
Victor Gollancz, 1992 p. 178

Astar’s Discount Is Expensive

Margaret Alice visited Merriam-Webster
on the Internet, saw with delight she won
an amount, received a call from Tampa,
America, the prize only valid if she
travels at own cost to Florida

But first she must pay twenty thousand rand
before she can leave on a holiday - guess
what, she can't afford it, the prize money
just a hook to make people pay for a
holiday they can't afford at all

It is not a prize when what you win costs more
than what you receive, she has to pay a million
dollars to receive three dollars; so be it, staying
at home, of course; America won't
run away...

Brain Distortion

Made up reasons to be happy, though
my attempt to check my first document
fell by the wayside as I still had to clean
the kitchen, washed dishes, cleaned the
dirty patio floor, fixed the book case some
more

Now my system demands escape to re-
plenish depleted energy and find inspi-
ration, I’ve got ten translations to check
heaven help me, that is a scary prospect
force my brain to concentrate on boring
words on a Saturday night, not possible

The pizzas last night have my brain in the
grip of allergy, my mind is contracting
intestines trembling, with supreme resig-
nation I accept the brain distortion that
cripples my mind, I shall watch situation
comedies and take life as it comes…

11 July 2009

Evil Is Custom-Made

Relativists define ‘evil’ as anything that
thwarts our purpose, there is no objective
evil out there that tries to usurp the world

Everything is relative to our own definitions of
good and bad without any external reference -
I have tried to create an interesting story

Without ‘evil’ of some kind, it was so boring; my hero
and heroine always needs something trying to stop
them from fulfilling their visions and dreams

But just like a James Bond movie, the evil is custom-
made for them, the kind of gadget M thinks up at the
beginning of the movie will be needed throughout

A dead give-away that Ian Fleming knew problems were
self-created or self-inflicted to create a challenge
giving us a chance to develop our own powers

Every problem in life is a lesson to define something to
overcome; seems like I chose the allergy because it
keeps my feet on the ground - no self-confidence

Or too much arrogance, whenever I speak up, it takes
weeks of acute embarrassment to get rid of feelings
of burning when thinking of my temerity

Not that the allergy has as yet stopped me from saying
too much, too loud, about things that should
have been confidential for ever more…

11 June 2009

Langenhoven’s Lullaby For Liefstetjie

Originally called Afrikaanse Wiegeliedjie,
the author changed every noun into its
diminutive, little darling, little thief of
mother’s heart, little tree, little stream

He even turned verbs into diminutives:
‘advancing’ becomes ‘nadertjies’ and
‘coming’ becomes ‘kommetjies’ – it is
the most enchanting lullaby

Charmingly called ‘Wiegeliedjie’ in
Afrikaans, Stef Bos the well-known
Dutch singer had tears in his eyes
as he sang it once, the song stole

His European heart, as it stole mine
when my mother sang it to us every
night…

Too Little, Too Late

The more you harp on my guilt
and sin, the more convinced I am
that you are right - the faster I run

I’m not hanging around to listen to
you run me down, I have already
done that, already tried

To force my body and spirit, heart
and soul to relinquish this life in
which I am indicted for doing

Too little, too late, too clumsy, too
inappropriate; I had hoped that love
could somehow make this life right

But not in this time, not in this
place, not for you; I’m sorry,
it’s not your fault at all…

Spirit Unwilling To Go On

Thought you were ill, worried about your health
put you to bed, held you tight, then tonight, as
soon as you felt better, you warned me that I was
to face reprimands for my bad conduct, my bad
performance as mother and wife

I sighed; I thought we were friends – I was wrong,
of course, you were angry with me for being tired
at the wrong moment and admitting as much, me
showing anger because fatigue took my power of
dissemblance away

I could not play that I felt wonderful while dead on
my feet – my fault entirely, I admit, I should have
been able to take the strain, as I expressed my joy
in your renewed health on seeing you well, you
warned me about the dire consequences

Of my being remiss in fulfilling duty and serving the
home, taking care of you and the children, I sighed,
you are right, I am such a bad caretaker, such a bad
serving person, I should be shot – but no-one ever
comes near enough to finish me off

I always run before they can kill me, I’m sorry, my
body is strong, though the spirit is
unwilling to go on…

Special, Uplifting Love

It’s raining – it should not be raining
but it is, in the middle of winter, in Pre-
toria where winters are traditionally
dry with brilliant blue skies and lovely
sunshine, even if weak

Now it is raining, reminding me of my
high school years, we lived outside, our
room opened into the rain and green,
luscious grass, my twin sister and I
enjoyed a quiet existence

While my two elder brothers were leading
the way, listening to Springbok radio, never
doing their homework while I slaved away
on my favourite subject, biology, life revolved
around practising piano, attending

Catechism and church choir on Sunday, the
best part being the trip to school by bicycle
I loved the freedom and exercise, the wind
in my hair, going into town by ourselves,
discovering the town library

Though feeling ill when I was at school, un-
treated allergy, the good times stand out with
more clarity than the fatigue, headache and
pains – rain always reminds me of happy
times, a heroine meeting someone

Who shows her the sun – that is what is
waiting for me after this physical life,
having dreamed of friendship most of
the time, having visualised love, I read
we become what we focus on

All of the time – I have been focusing on
becoming a discoverer of the meaning
of life - of special, uplifting love...

My Soul Is Rejoicing!

When love is broken down to its essence:
attraction, admiration, loyalty, sacrifice
togetherness and sharing, there are a
thousand right loves in the world for each
one of us just as Leo Buscaglia said

A perfect love does not fall out of the air,
but has to be created through devotion and
loving deeds - when the robot Wall-E met
the probe Eve, she was indifferent to him
while he was overjoyed to meet her

A form of life similar to himself, he showed
her his treasures and films about the meaning
of friendship and love, he protected her in a
storm, when the spaceship took her away

He followed his love without concern for him-
self, slowly Eve discovered how much Wall-E
did for her, saved him from injury and certain
death, together they saved the world

This is all we ever need, just one tiny seed of
affection and love, the energy stream always
renewed - my heart is dreaming a thousand
dreams after taking in this story

My soul is restored, my spirit rejoicing!

Eve, Wall-E And Love

Watching Wall-E with the kids, images of
beauty and love, just as I dreamt earlier
today, how wonderful that movie-makers
can create a lovable robot called Wall-E
to steal my heart, gave him a mate, a
robot called Eve

This proves humankind is always renewed
by emotions of love and delight, Wall-E is
the new joy in my life, right after wishing
for freedom and joy, this movie came up,
my wish fulfilled as promised by Law
of Attraction

My document helped me to ascertain what
I would prefer to a boring task of research,
the kids called, watch the new movie, sud-
denly the lovable, curious little robot ap-
peared who watched old movies full of
dances, romances

Happiness and love, providing the key for
bringing new life to earth, Eve recorded
his movies and learnt what LIFE meant
when lived in hands touching, dancing
and laughing, she learnt to love the
loyal, brave little robot

She helped him to bring people back to
earth after seven hundred years
in a spaceship, love triumphed,
all is well, just as I surmised!

Later 4 July 2009

Gargantuan Translation Task

Brought my document home to translate
French sentences - based on Italian syntax
and grammar - into the Queen’s English, but
this brave attempt

To deal with an incomprehensible document
destroyed my Saturday, the enormity of this
gargantuan translation task looming large like
an evil ice-berg

In front of my Titanic desire to get it done
every word has to be researched, progress
is slow, freedom is lost, no sunshine enjoyed
while struggling valiantly

Trying to rid myself of this scourge, this proof
of my incompetence in sticking to one long boring
task, my soul wants to be free, my spirit wants to
dream, my heart wants to

Conjure images of beauty and love – but no, this
document forces me to sit immobile for hours on
end, sighing and wishing for the end of this, our
present universe – so that

A new world can come into being, a world
in which I can be free, a world permeated
by the warm light of a new, joyous
consciousness...

Early 4 July 2009

Off Into The Blue

Sitting immobile, looking at a text,
researching words, slow death for
me with my people-orientated, fun-
loving personality, I want to be free,
run around, talk to everyone, determine
their state of mind, solve the problems
they define, see to their needs

But here I am, confined in silence to
one boring spot, chained to one text,
time standing still, last night I ended
up on the floor with a muscle spasm
in my back, now I yawn, eyes closing,
the text is a bore, look up every word,
it makes no difference

I do not feel better at all, fatigued, the
world –to me- is standing still, Victor
Hugo said his eyes were on his thoughts,
'les yeux sur mes pensées, triste' –sad–
‘et le jour sera comme la nuit’ -and the
day would be like night to him, yes, it is
the same for me

My eyes are on the end of the world,
we should travel with Douglas Adams
to the restaurant at the end of the
universe, watch the demise of this
boring place of incongruity, listening
to music before returning with Zaphod
Beeblebrox to the place where

he stole that new space vehicle and
made off into the blue – now that
is something I would LOVE to do!

Spinning Through Infinity…

Lost my Open-Sesame access card,
left only holding the lanyard, now have
to pray the security guard is at hand to
open every door for me, must structure
my comings and goings not to cause
too much disturbance

Head of Security said I should buy a new
card at exorbitant cost – not even my fault
the card was lost, the lanyard security pro-
vided failed, luckily today’s security guard
is very friendly, rejoices with me when I
leave the open-plan office prison

Laughing when I beg to be confined in the
salt mine inside, resembling the Black Hole
of Calcutta in my mind, I’m yawning fiercely,
feeling sleepy, the stolen beskuit* I munched
last night causing an LSD-trip, I’m spinning
through infinity…

*Special kind of dough baked and dried;
delicious – allergic me cannot eat it and
remain symptom-free, every now and again
I eat one illegally and suffer the consequences…

From Ballarini to Baldacchini

Ballarini’s Traboules led to Baldacchini
http://icl08.univ-lyon1.fr/information.php

Oh goodness gracious me, my current favourite,
Ballarini, has just been replaced by a new hero,
Baldacchini, first name Giuseppe, he wrote an
article on Luminescence and Optical Spectroscopy

That reads like one of my own weird translations,
I quote him directly, you can visit the site where
I found this, I can’t work, too delighted to con-
centrate, Baldacchini is singing in my heart:

“The biggest part of this radiant branch of Science
still belongs to the old known Luminescence,
which is the finest probe of the atomic process
also when it is very often utterly radiationless.

The same light can stimulate a new emission,
but also the temperature is a good excitation,
and lately in solids a lively electron stream
produces light better than in our wildest dream.4

The biological world is also at the center stage
and light may also help to increase our own age,
if we learn to play well with the exotic excitons
which moves fast up to deliver finally the photons.

But the lion share belongs still to the solid matter
which whatever the state has always a typical specter,
from crystals, amorphous materials and insulators,
to polymers, nanostructures and semiconductors.

However, all of that would have been in utter darkness
as before the Big Bang was the universe radiationless,
if color centers, defects, traps, dots and impurities
would not be plentiful with various optical activities.

For all that we had more than one lively discussion
on excitation, energy transfer and prized up conversion,5
but the interaction among people in the Conference
has been its high point for the huge record attendance.

We know today to a great deal the optical properties
because of new, continuous and brilliant discoveries,
to which all of us have given small contributions
but with a few giants6 setting the right directions.

In conclusion, although the schedule was very tight
we enjoyed very much this Conference of the Light,
for which we have to thank a very efficient organization7
and the beautiful country of France for the warm reception.

And now four verses in my own musical language:

In conclusione abbiamo avuto una settimana intensa
che è trascorsa bene e veloce come la nostra esistenza,
ma che rimarrà sempre nei nostri cuori e nelle menti
come un bel momento di grande amicizia e sentimenti.”

Bravo, Baldacchini, bravo! Encore, this is brilliant, I’m
going to spend hours savouring it, and Ballarini, you
angelic creature of useless general information, thank
you for mentioning the word “traboules” which led me

To the Internet to find a translation and opened up the
delicious delight of Baldacchini, an angel of light!

Read the whole article at:
http://icl08.univ-lyon1.fr/information.php

Astrogenetics, Van Deusen and Cotterell

My biggest moral failing is an overpowering sense
of boredom, need to make life interesting by reading
everything positive, refusing to look at anything that
propagates negative ideas, powerlessness and lack
of freedom – which changes boredom into depression
which is even worse - then force my conclusions on
everyone who has the bad luck to be in my vicinity

Yesterday I tried to determine Jane’s Astrogenetic
sign (date of conception) by counting nine months
back from date of birth, but in my overenthusiastic
stupidity I counted nine months forwards and tried
to convince this Capricorn, born on 25 December,
she was Virgo, luckily she is more intelligent than
most and pointed out nine months BACK ends in

Taurus, ALAS! I realized Nici’s Sagittarius beau is
not an Astrogenetic Leo, but Aries, somewhat the
same, both are fire signs with fiery temperaments,
but Aries is enthusiastic and straightforward while
Leo is out-going and cheerful; and where Aries is
childlike, Leo is proud, I had better set things right
before the beau realises just how confused

This strange alien – ME – really is…


Astrogenetics: Herewith a summary of the theory
as presented on the Internet at:
www.spiritualgenome.com/chapter_fourteen.htm

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ASTROGENETICS AND
NETWORKED INTELLIGENCE

Edmund Van Deusen wrote a book called Astrogenetics(Edmund Van Deusen. Astrogenetics. New York: Doubleday, 1976.) When he planted morning glories at different times of the year, flowering plants from the same seeds had different colours and characteristics, depending upon when they were planted. Each successive planting had a characteristic colour, size and twist of vine; each plant's unique personality stemmed from its season of birth. If this was true for plants, it could also be true for humans.

Van Deusen found clear patterns of people born under the same star sign represented in higher or lower numbers in data linking birth date to trade or profession . A group of 4006 college athletes showed more Leo and Virgo people and less Aries and Gemini people.

A group of 2,088 journalists and editors contained more Scorpio and Sagittarius and less Capricorn and Libra. Van Deusen concluded star sign determines personality and profession, calling and talents.

Van Deusen’s theory of Astrogenetics states that the mother’s biorhythm, experienced by baby in the womb from moment of conception until birth, determines its personality. Our bodies are governed by internal clocks altering body chemistry such as the twenty-four hour sun cycle. Hormone concentrations varies by 50 %+ during the day as the sun changes position. Our annual biorhythm depends upon seasonal changes as determined by the earth’s rotation around the sun.

All people have an annual biorhythm and body chemistry changes according to the season. When a baby is conceived, its genes are affected by his mother’s biorhythm cycles until it is born, thus providing a rational explanation for the theory why time of conception affects genetic make-up and personality, since biorhythms are determined by the sun’s varying radiation. The length of the solar day has astrological significance, affecting a mother’s biorhythms as the seasons change. At moment of conception and during nine months of gestation, there is a unique
pattern of sun radiation which determines genetic characteristics.

Maurice M. Cotterell, co-author of The Mayan Prophecies(A.G. Gilbert & M.M. Cotterell. The Mayan Prophecies. Dorset: Element, 1995) analysed the significance of the sun’s magnetic field for life on Earth. The sun’s magnetic field cycles coincide with the Zodiac sun-signs, explaining why people have certain characteristics and personality traits. The cyclical fluctuations of the sun’s magnetic field change DNA, explaining how sun-signs in astrology are determined.

Thoughts Manifest In Limited Context

2 July 2009: Watched Moonstruck last night
when I should have been tucked up in bed,
Nicholas Cage when he was young, Cher
looking absolutely beautiful, romance bloomed,
the way it does not in life – but no matter dear,
it blooms in fantasy all the time, just read the right
kind of poetry and mix in your own dream – voilà,
la dolce vita is created in our minds. Everybody I
meet only consists in my perceptions, I cannot
know you as you are, neither can you know me
outside the framework of your personal inter-
pretations of your own perceptions – heavens,
I shudder to think what most people must think
of me, given what I think of some people – luckily,
we cannot read minds and thoughts only manifest
in limited context – I’ll keep quiet about my ideas
if you’ll keep quiet about yours – no, this is much
too boring, tell me lots of things so I can read
between the lines; I LOVE reading more into
reality than people claim there is!

See Lilypad mentioned in "Andre Rieu" poem

Andra Pradesh & Snowflake & Fledermaus

.......................Die Fledermaus - Andre Rieu poem


Andra Pradesh, India

A Snowflake

Indra's Pearls - Two Pictures - See "Andre Rieu"

First image is classic,
second image is colourful...

Andre Rieu, A Strauss Waltz Or Two

Snowflakes, water crystals, Indra’s pearls and you,
Andre Rieu, a Strauss Waltz or two, Die Fledermaus,
Ballarini, Andra Pradesh and the Bay of Bengal –
all over the world in pictures, the French Ambassador’s
Daughter is in thrall, waltzing to the melody of the
Blue Danube with her eyes closed, falling into the
lake, dreaming and laughing, looking at pictures,
translating, looking up every word, Ludmilla and
Semjonof obviously live on a Lilypad, their happiness
reflected in Indra’s pearls, I must return to the document
in front of me, see what Ballarini says of the Maldives,
but my eyes keep looking for more words from you…

[1 July 2009 - See rest of pictures in next postings.]