Ich bin - I am

This poem by Job Degenaar poss an interesting problem for the translator. In the Dutch poem, the author uses a few German phrases, referring to the classic movie Der Blauwe Engel phrases every one in Holland would probbly understand and recognize. I am not so sure that my American friends would. Yet just translating the original into English would take away the exotic element in the poem. So here is the solution I choose.
Ich bin


Zwaar van bloesem buigt vanavond
de oude appelboom

en zij daar, satijnen engel
althans vanuit m'n auto

detonerend in de leegte
haalt haar wasgoed van de lijn

Ook op de radio komt ze door
'von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt'

Even scheurt de grond -
Berlin dreißiger Jahre

und überall

Wege zum Gluck -

Het huis herzien, de boom geveld
de polder bijna ingevuld

de weg is recht, m'n leven krom
ik kijk nog altijd even om
*

Ich bin, I am

Blossom heavy bows tonight
the old apple tree

and she there, satin angle
at least from my car

incongruent in the emptiness
takes the laundry off the line

Also on the radio she comes through
von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt, from head to toe attuned to love

Briefly earth tears –
Berlin Dreißiger Jahre, Berlin in the thirties

und überall, and everywhere
Wege zum Glück - roads to happiness

Revisited the house, the tree felled
the polder almost filled

the road is straight, my life off track
so far, I still glance back

Poem from the volume Ich Bin - I am, to be published in Autumn by wib

Tell me what is poetry

Somewhere deep inside myself I know what I mean when I use the word 'poetry'. I know how it feels when I write it, read it, translate it, perform it, alone or with others. I find it generally easy to work with poets, correcting translations and exchanging thoughts about poetry and social responsibility of art. Once in awhile one reaches a stalemate, a difference of opinion that would make working together rather difficult. So I ask you what is poetry? One person suggested sound and sense. That is a nice alliteration but it doesn't say much about poetry. Music is that too... Poetry is made of words made of characters, says another poet. True, yet here are a few elements that I look for in poetry: power, form or the breaking of form and grammar, a critical approach to the poems canonized in the past, humor, honesty. I don't mean confessional poetry, however I don't mind personal poetry when it has just enough alienation, which is an element one can't do without in art.
So, if you can tell me what poetry is, I'd appreciate it.

One day I wrote:

daddy good bye
goodbye goodbye, bye
bye
bye, good bye,
good good
bye, bye bye
and so on
a whole page full, you get the drift: good bye daddy...
good bye bye.
bye
It brought relief, made me feel better, but is it poettry