Salon12b - Freestyle

Another salon 12b is taking place November 29. Door open at 7PM and the performances start at 8PM with the world premiere of Global Night Car. You can read it on the link. It will be read in three languages, in different voices, since nine different poets contributed to this experiment. In the break expect a good Goulash soup and something will be there for vegetarians as well. Desert will be by Rose: Condé rice with apricots...

After earthy food, the poets present will read their latest and thus unpublished work. Lucienne Stassaert will be kind enough to read the poems of three Breton poets one, Olivier Cousin, has received a major price. We always knew 'the project's poets' are fabulous.

L’enfant sur la jetée

Petit port de pêche paisible

au bout des garennes

Deux caseyeurs bleus

franchissent la passe

pour venir se soulager sur le quai

de leurs casiers d’illusions

et de désillusions

Il n’y aura qu’un seul témoin

De dos sur la jetée

un enfant scrute les flots

et les flots fixent l’enfant

S’il était assis sur le môle

on en saurait plus

Personne ne peut dire

s’il a jailli des vagues

ou s’il va y plonger

En suspens la vie l’attend

avec ses joies et ses déboires

comme la mer constellée

d’îlots et de récifs

Les deux caseyeurs bleus

passent les dernières balises

l’enfant n’a pas bougé

Il y a tant de cartes à s’inventer

*

Child on the jetty

A small peaceful fisherman port

at the edge of the moors

Two blue lobsterpot boats

cross the channel

to come and unload on the quay       

their pots of illusions

and disillusions

There will be only one witness

His back to the jetty

a child scrutinizes the drift

the drift staring at the child           

If he’d been sitting on the pier              

we would have known more                                               

Nobody can say

whether he shot up from the waves

or whether he is going to jump in

In suspense life awaits him

with its joys and troubles                  

like the sea spattered                    

with isles and reefs

The two blue lobsterpot boats

pass the last beacons                       

the child hasn’t moved

There are so many maps to invent

2nd European Festival of Poetry, 2011

Note the 17th of September in your diaries: That is the day you can come to the Permeke library in Antwerp to enjoy the poets, performers, musicians and singers. The program is coming together nicely. The performances are finding their level, how to show and let hear what we want to communicate. Poets from five countries will be present. Some poets you might have met and heard last year and that would be an occasion to get reacquainted with them and some are first timers and not of the least.  We'll be honoring a few Grandes Dames of poetry who turn 70 and 75 this year. 7 of the poets come from outside of Belgium: 3 from The Netherlands, 2 from Germany, 1 from France and one from the US. Although work of more than one American poet will be read  and performed.
So note the date: September 17, 8 PM.

As an appetizer a short poem by Sherman Alexie from one of the main features of the festival:The sounds of harbour, the upcoming third volume in this series: Harbors of the West.

Migration, 1902

The salmon swim

so thick in this river

that Grandmother walks

across the water

on the bridge

of their spines.

*

Migratie, 1902

De zalm zwemt zo

dicht op elkaar in deze rivier

dat Grootmoeder over

het water loopt

op de brug

van hun rug.

 

With permission of Hanging Loose Press

Essen-main library, Ruhrgebiet - © Foto: Wilfried Bienek

March 21 was world poetry day.
In the main library in Essen, Ruhrgebiet, Germany, unbeknown by us, they dressed a table with a choice of poetry. Look at the right hand top. There you find the first production of world internet books: Grenzland. The first book in the framework of Ruhrgebiet2010 Cultural Capital of Europe.The book you see will in the course of the year be published as part of the trilogy 'Flußschiffahrt' - Binnenvaart - Inland waterways- together with 'Kammergedanken' - Kamergedachten - Chamber thoughts - and Anti. From March 17 to 20 Hafenklänge - Havenklanken - Sounds of Harbour - was presented at the book fair in Leipzig. 

Blackbox One

 Meet Wilfried Bienek reading his poetry from Hafenklänge Havenklanken Sounds of Harbour during the Festival on September 18.


*

But now there is more news. His next boek of poetry Blackbox One is availlable since today. The picture on the right is the cover picture from the sixth book published by Fred Schywek, world internet books, in the framework of Ruhr Area 2010 EuropeanCapital of Culture

The poetry in this volume exemplifies  his idiosyncratic and ironic worldview.

Der zerbrochene Krug

Ein Krug zerbrach.
De Mann: Das Kind wars.
Das Kind: Der Mann wars.

Falsch: Der Krug wars.

Having pondered  about different ways to deal with multilingualism in a performance, the poem 'Wenn man nichts hat' by Fred Schywek was performed simultaneously in German and in Dutch by Fred Schywek and Annmarie Sauer.

©: Bram Goots

From  Hafenklänge - Havenklanken - Sounds of Harbour:

Wenn man nichts hat
(für Brel und Mega)

Heute war der Tod bei mir zu Haus
aufgeteilt in selbst und Rauch
geschrien hierher durch eine Angst
gerufen von der Flöte auf dem Brett

heute singen die Engel zum erstenmal
die Zeit herein vom großen Tor

Heute waren wir am Hafen
sahen fliegend stinkend Fisch

sahen Körper im Fluß
sahen dunkle Wasser ohne Gnade

Heute ist ein Freund gestorben
heute ist heute tot

waren wir an der See
brachen Wellen wie wir es früher taten

sangen die Lieder der Trunkenbolde
roten Wein am Hals

Heute ist wenn man nichts hat
wenn der Vogel der Bär deine Mutter nie gewesen
im Knistern der sterbenden Flamme
im Trommeln des schwarzen Hans

die Bilder der frühen Tänze
heute ist der Tod zu Gast
und er hat sich genommen
zu früh &
ohne Gnade
ohne Musik
so kalt wie der kalte Fluß
da oben

da waren Sommer
gemeine weite Wege

ist es da oben
doch die Welt

da war Kohlenschmiere
da war Saxophon
da war

da ist etwas
falsch

wenn man nichts hat
außer das Leben

*
Als men niets heeft
(voor Brel en Mega)

Vandaag was de dood thuis bij mij
toebedeeld in zelf en rook
hierheen geschreeuwd door een angst
geroepen door de fluit op de plank

vandaag zingen de engelen voor ’t eerst
de tijd binnen van de grote poort

Vandaag waren we aan de haven
zagen vliegend stinkend vis

zagen lichamen in de stroom
zagen donker water zonder genade

Vandaag is een vriend gestorven
vandaag is vandaag dood

waren wij aan zee
braken golven zoals we vroeger deden

zongen de liederen van de dronkenlappen
rode wijn in de keel

Vandaag is als men niets heeft
als de vogel de beer je moeder nooit was
in het knetteren van de stervende vlam
in het trommelen van Zwarte Hans

de beelden van vroege dansen
vandaag is de dood te gast
en heeft voor zich meegenomen
te vroeg &
zonder genade
zonder muziek
zo luid als de koude stroom
daar boven

daar waren zomers
gewone wijde wegen

is het daarboven
toch de wereld

daar was kolensmurrie
daar was saxofoon
daar was

daar is iets
fout

als men niets heeft
dan het leven

Dutch: Annmarie Sauer

The Master of Ceremony reads

Roger Nupie, how to describe his qualities? He is the president of the Nina Simone fan club and knew her well. He likes his diva's.  As an MC he is is funny, and efficient, keeps a good rhythm. As a poet he is can be bitter, sweet and naughty. The the anthology Sounds of Harbor he has a rather funny and and slightly skewed. He reads The embarkation is with a lot  of aplomb.

©: Bram Goots

TO THE LIGHTHOUSE

De liefde
verliest
haar getijden


Dat wegeebben blijft

ons bij versteend 
op de oever

Nooit

halen we

morgen.

*
ZUM LEUCHTTURM

Die Liebe

verliert

ihre Gezeiten.

Das Wegebben bleibt

uns erhalten, versteinert

auf dem Ufer.

Nie

holen wir

das Morgen.


German: Fred Schywek

*

TO THE LIGHTHOUSE

Love

looses

its tides.

This ebbing away stays

with us petrified

on the shore.

Never

will we make it

to tomorrow.