Syds Wiersma was RIXT Poet of the Month for December 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems from that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘late autumn’ – is published below.

late autumn

in the autumn I’m able to write
if writing is a form of dying
until the telling turns it into a
feeble infatuation

I prune wild imaginings
cleanse my eyes bloated
from drawn-out days

the ambition burns brightly for a moment, then lets go
sinks into a swoon after a sprinkling of frosty and white

in the autumn I’m able to write
if writing has to be an act
of consolation


© Syds Wiersma
translation: Trevor Scarse

Sipke de Schiffart was RIXT Poet of the Month for November 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems from that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Apostate’ – is published below.

apostate

once the national coach was a pious,
loyal church attendee, until 
his first wife passed away

he turned away from his belief,
did not set foot in a church anymore

strange, when you think about it

all the misery in the world, the famine
and starvation of millions of small children in Africa,
the enormous slaughter in his own country’s bioindustry,
Auschwitz and you name it

none of that was a reason for him
to leave the church,
but when his own wife passed,
he was so incensed,
that he wanted nothing to do 
with God anymore

fortunately for Dutch football
he does know a lot about the game


© Sipke de Schiffart
translation: Trevor Scarse

Jetze de Vries was RIXT Poet of the Month for October 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems from that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Lot’ – is published below.

Lot

before dawn the man closed
the door of his home softly
drove for hours, looked in mirrors
clouds gathered like smoke
the sound was closing in
a monstrous insect across the mountain ridge
the land of the free did not come into view


© Jetze de Vries
translation: Trevor Scarse

Fedde Dijkstra was RIXT Poet of the Month September 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems from that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘CLOSE ENOUGH’ – is published here. Fedde Dijkstra is a guest poet of RIXT.

CLOSE ENOUGH

in between the forest’s breaths
cars rumble across the concrete
a pigeon flaps out of a tree

two clocks ticking at each other
and through the French windows
a cat traipses stealthily

inside, nothing barring its way,
through the corridor, up the stairs
where it plays with a little ball

which on its own accord
ba
    donk
             a
              donk
                       a
                       donk
bounces down the stairs

a blackbird sounds the alarm
the neighbour calls her kids inside
and a siren comes in

nothing is perfect
but everything falls into place
close enough for jazz


© Fedde Dijkstra
translation: Trevor Scarse

Henk Nijp was RIXT Poet of the Month June 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Nylân’ – is published here.

Nylân

there I stood, for the first time
towering high above everything
I could even see far beyond the tracks
the scorching sun
beneath the tiles, the restless water
the howling others

the first steps easy-peasy
halfway bit slower higher
at the top the wet concrete and the jitters
the eroding blue of the iron
the rough plank underneath my feet
doubt setting in

behind me the bellowers
“come on, hurry up…!”
careful steps forward
then hesitation and standstill,
the rolling depths

no way back
into the void,
arms flailing
the crash and the bubbles
then the howling others once more


© Henk Nijp
translation: Trevor Scarse

Preston Losack was RIXT Poet of the Month June 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘King of Fools’ – is published here.

King of Fools

“Was there ever, once upon a time
When things were mitrily in feign,
A moment all were trying to find
Some birds a-bluing in the train?
Figgies felt so full of fitness
Horny buggers thricemore high
Gruff ol’ dingy doggo minace
Huffing puffing trashing fly!”

“What words get hewn when grouped in fours
From tangents found but hours before
Make some here and get some there
Low in rank as scrivonaire
Let’s dump all standards overboard
And just write “shitty dentist gourd!”
No need for proper, no need for prim:
We make nonsense interim!”

“Word for word we build up worth.
Humbug held his heft in first,
Frithay with but a Wednesday look,
Hourly crample with your Sunday schnook!
Listen crovishly! Cry on fowl!
Read a helper in a trailer park
And laugh when I get discomvowel’d!
Stand upon my diction-ark!
And knock on doors from thyme to time
Whimsing of nauseating butterrhyme!”

“No worries, man, if you don’t get it–
Don’t be confused, don’t get frustrated,
Can’t you hear how it sounds, my sons?”
Thus speaks the King upon his throne of puns!


© Preston Losack
translation: Trevor Scarse and Preston Losack

Edwin de Groot was RIXT-poet of the month May 2022. You can read his original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘What Nr 14 already said’ – is published here.

translation by Trevor Scarse