Poem
J. Slauerhoff
IN MEMORIAM MYSELF
By enemies hemmed in,With ‘friends in need’ who’ve fled
Rank meat that stinks like sin,
I laugh, toss back my head,
Though torn to shreds within,
My body all but dead.
Each day my life was crossed
By new adversity.
Good reaped iniquity;
I paid a heavy cost,
But now the battle’s lost
I fight on doggedly.
Snow, ice envelop me,
The bodies are piled high
Of those who crazily
Pursued my inner ‘I’,
Once bright as ‘gay Paree’,
Now polar, frozen, dry.
I leave no last bequest,
Smash life’s work at a stroke;
No mercy I request,
Curse past and future folk;
Stand tall where they now rest,
And treat death as a joke.
I look fate in the eye,
Have said not one goodbye,
But want men when I die
To say just this of me:
‘He did good very ill,
Served bad with honest will,
Succumbed while battling still,
Undaunted, lived his fill,
Intolerant and free.’
© Translation: 2000, Paul Vincent
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium, 1999
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium, 1999
IN MEMORIAM MIJZELF
IN MEMORIAM MIJZELF
Door vijanden omringd,Door vrienden in den nood
Geschuwd als aas dat stinkt,
Houd ik mij lachend groot,
Al is mijn ziel verminkt,
Mijn lijf voor driekwart dood.
In ’t leven was geen dag
Ooit zonder tegenspoed.
Ik leed kwaad en deed goed;
Dat is een hard gelag.
Nu, in verloren slag,
Strijd ik met starren moed.
Bedekt met sneeuw en ijs,
Getooid door menig lijk
Van wie de dwaze reis
Deed naar mijn innerlijk,
Eens vroeg licht als Parijs
Nu ’t poolgebied gelijk.
Ik laat geen gaven na,
Verniel wat ik volbracht;
Ik vraag om geen gena,
Vloek voor- en nageslacht;
Zij liggen waar ik sta,
Lachend den dood verwacht.
Ik deins niet voor de grens,
Nam afscheid van geen mensch,
Toch heb ik nog een wensch,
Dat men mij na zal geven:
‘Het goede deed hij slecht,
Beleed het kwaad oprecht,
Hij stierf in het gevecht,
Hij leidde recht en slecht
Een onverdraagzaam leven.’
© 1998, Erven J. Slauerhoff / K. Lekkerkerker / Uitgeverij Nijgh & Van Ditmar
From: Alle gedichten
Publisher: Nijgh & Van Ditmar, Amsterdam
From: Alle gedichten
Publisher: Nijgh & Van Ditmar, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of J. Slauerhoff
Close
IN MEMORIAM MYSELF
By enemies hemmed in,With ‘friends in need’ who’ve fled
Rank meat that stinks like sin,
I laugh, toss back my head,
Though torn to shreds within,
My body all but dead.
Each day my life was crossed
By new adversity.
Good reaped iniquity;
I paid a heavy cost,
But now the battle’s lost
I fight on doggedly.
Snow, ice envelop me,
The bodies are piled high
Of those who crazily
Pursued my inner ‘I’,
Once bright as ‘gay Paree’,
Now polar, frozen, dry.
I leave no last bequest,
Smash life’s work at a stroke;
No mercy I request,
Curse past and future folk;
Stand tall where they now rest,
And treat death as a joke.
I look fate in the eye,
Have said not one goodbye,
But want men when I die
To say just this of me:
‘He did good very ill,
Served bad with honest will,
Succumbed while battling still,
Undaunted, lived his fill,
Intolerant and free.’
© 2000, Paul Vincent
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: 1999, Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: 1999, Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium
IN MEMORIAM MYSELF
By enemies hemmed in,With ‘friends in need’ who’ve fled
Rank meat that stinks like sin,
I laugh, toss back my head,
Though torn to shreds within,
My body all but dead.
Each day my life was crossed
By new adversity.
Good reaped iniquity;
I paid a heavy cost,
But now the battle’s lost
I fight on doggedly.
Snow, ice envelop me,
The bodies are piled high
Of those who crazily
Pursued my inner ‘I’,
Once bright as ‘gay Paree’,
Now polar, frozen, dry.
I leave no last bequest,
Smash life’s work at a stroke;
No mercy I request,
Curse past and future folk;
Stand tall where they now rest,
And treat death as a joke.
I look fate in the eye,
Have said not one goodbye,
But want men when I die
To say just this of me:
‘He did good very ill,
Served bad with honest will,
Succumbed while battling still,
Undaunted, lived his fill,
Intolerant and free.’
© 2000, Paul Vincent
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: 1999, Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium
From: The Low Countries 1999-2000
Publisher: 1999, Stichting Ons Erfdeel, Rekkem, Flanders, Belgium
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