LL-L "Events" 2005.01.18 (05) [E]

[Lowlands-L]

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L O W L A N D S - L * 18.JAN.2005 (05) * ISSN 189-5582 * LCSN 96-4226
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From: R. F. Hahn <sassisch at yahoo.com>
Subject: Events

Folks,

Those of you who are interested in Low Saxon (Low German), contemporary
poetry and/or women's literature have a treat coming their way if they are
able to be in Bremen on January 20 (this Thursday). The performer and actor
Nomena Struß, accompanied by the musicians Ralph Benesch and Jörn Schipper,
will recite poetry by the trend-setting Low Saxon (Low German) writer
Waltrud Bruhn. Alas, I won't be able to be there.  (It's too far from the US
West Coast.)  However, I strongly recommend that you attend if you possibly
can. You will find details (in German) here:
http://www.ins-presse.de/files/INS0305.PDF

(This information has been disseminated by the INS Press, Plattnet.de.)

Bravo, Nomena Struß!  Wieder so!

I very much hope that a CD or a DVD will be available of the event or an
equivalent.

In the introduction of my forthcoming book (to be published in 2006), I say
the following about Waltrud Bruhn at the end of my acknowledgments:

"Nich toletzt Dank an Waltrud Bruhn, de us œver mennig een Grenz vörangahn
is, de us ähr Harvsttied­maand in ’n olde Spraak up ’n neje Aard beschreev’
un nu sachs vun ’n würklichere Welt nedder-düütsche Schrie­verslüüd’ un
Läsers to’t Kieken un Strieden œver neje Grenzen anpurren deit."

"Nicht zuletzt Dank an Waltrud Bruhn, die uns über so manche Grenze
vorangegangen ist, die uns ihren Herbstmond in alter Sprache auf neue Art
beschrieb und wohl jetzt von einer wirklicheren Welt aus niederdeutsche
Schriftsteller und Leser beim Schauen und Schreiten über weitere Grenzen
anspornt."

A translation for you:
"Last but not least, thanks to Waltrud Bruhn who, ahead of us, has crossed
many a boundary, who used an old language and new ways to describe to us her
harvest moon, and who, from a more real world, is undoubtedly cheering on
Low Saxon writers and readers as they look and walk across further
boundaries."

In fact, soon after her passing, her husband informed me that one of her
wishes for our language had been that it would come out of the shadows and
join the world. Let's support her in that!

Below please find one of Bruhn's poems with my translation (from a
collection on which I am working).

Kumpelmenten,
Reinhard/Ron

***

   Vun’n Oorlog

   Oorlog sien Flach
   findst deep ünner de Huut.
   Knakendröög Sand överhenweiht,
   en möörsleten Liekdook,
   ümfreet vun Smachthalms un Draba,
   dat Hungerkruut.
   Kummerstief helen sik
   so düssen Sömmer lang
   eenbeent Rosen, Tagetes noch oprecht.
   Knall keem un Bloot vun Salven!
   Veerkanten-Steeden, jümmerto wedder
   tweibröselt un meist uteneen.
   De Sünn bringt’t vörtüüg.
   Jümmerto wedder an Maatwachten,
   an Grenzsteen, de Graffnissen utricht.
   Un doch is keen Bedd un keen Roh,
   wo alltoveel Macht is.
   Oorlog sien Flach, maal hier
   un maal dar, dümpelt un swalkt,
   deep ünner de Huut.
   Seert.

***

   About war

   The field of war
   is found deep under the skin.
   Bone-dry sand blown across it,
   a fragile, threadbare shroud,
   its hem eaten away by scurvygrass and nailwort,
   the hunger weeds.
   Holding on, rigid from grief,
   throughout this summer are
   one-legged roses, marigolds still upright.
   There was a bang and blood from a volley!
   Rectangular plots, over and over
   crumbled and almost disintegrated.
   The sun brings it to light.
   Over and over lined up along scales,
   along boundary stones are the graves.
   And yet there’s no bed and no rest
   where there’s too much power.
   The field of war, now here
   and now there, swaying and quaking,
   deep under the skin.
   Festering.

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