Posted poetry

Gerrit de Vries was the RIXT poet of the month December 2021. You can read his original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Moth hunt’ – is published here.

Moth hunt 

my tool looks a bit like
a tennis racket
a light-green handle
with a small shutter
for the batteries
a light-green shaft

press the yellow button
like sparklers
on New Year’s Eve
the moth flickers gaily
on the wall

with supple arm movements
I direct letters of air

if you hit a moth
in mid-air
and you’re lucky
it’ll burst into pieces

with a loud bang
and a blue flash of light

in a shower
of satisfaction

I wish I could touch you that way


© Gerrit de Vries
Translation: Trevor Scarse

Cornelis van der Wal was the RIXT poet of the  month October 2021. You can read his original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Crystal radios for grandpa’ – is published here.

Crystal radios for grandpa

The light thundered above the glimmering flowers
of the old field, where the vagabond sang his songs,

the watchdog would sharpen his teeth with sour saliva.
Some of the farmers knew what to do, the hour when

grandpa came sailing into the black canal on his scow.
Due to their crystal radios everybody knew of his arrival.

© Cornelis van der Wal 
Translation: Trevor Scarse

Janneke Spoelstra was the Poet of the Month in September 2021. A translation of one of her poems for that month – ‘Change of pace’ – is published below. You can read the original Frisian poem – ‘It ferrin’ – here.

Change of pace

I’m walking with my mum,
she matches my stride.

…

My mum is walking with me,
I match her stride.


© Janneke Spoelstra
Translation: Trevor Scarse

Ina Schroders-Zeeders was the RIXT poet of the month August 2021. You can read her original Frisian poems of that month here. The translation of one of them – ‘Brass hats’ – is published here.

Autumn 2021


A rain falls, summer will soon end
Whoever’s fearful can feel the darkness
That will prevail in those months draw near.
The clammy news which frames the time
Spills from our screens into our lives.

We go to bed with blinkers on.
The compassion we’re so proud of during the day
Is engulfed by a black dreamless sleep.

Verbally exhausted, ignorant of the Taliban,
Covid and climate, until the rain
Betrays something of reality.
Summer will soon end but it was all for nothing.


© Ina Schroders-Zeeders
Translation: Trevor Scarse

André Looijenga was the RIXT poet of the  month July 2021. You can read his original Frisian poem here. You can read the English translation below.

summer in fryslân

we’ll just have to imagine the barges
as the lake gathers rain in the wind
beneath hardstone skies

let the party tents be a mirage
as the sun flames up thirstily
above the stubble of grass

let us be reminded of the open-air
stage play of two years ago by the thrushes
that sing from the rooftops at dusk

let us replay the film from that time
every summer such a frisian summer

and sleep like all summers


© André Looijenga
Translation: Trevor Scarse