POETRY

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine

De ynspekteur fan ’e jirpelkontrôle

I
Komst yn ’e simmer fan Sint Anne yn ’t Bildt
dan moatst hohâlde dêr’tst it kowelân sjochst
deun by de bosk dêr’t se fan sizze
dat it by it âld kleaster lei
Do sjochst it wol lizzen tusken ’t boulân de jirpels de biten
en ast lok hast hellet in faam yn in blauwe overall
de kij foar ‘t melken en sjongt se in liet

Bist ûnderweis nei Sint Anne yn ’t Bildt
Jirpels, nôt en ek noch wat kij
Groetsje my dan dy man yn it fjild
Hy wie ienris de leafste fan my

In man skaait dêr yn de jirpels om
Yn rigen de rêgen It lân is al yn Se bloeie
Syn omskaaien folget in plan want
hy mjit en hy skriuwt en hy telt want de jirpels
se folgje de wetten fan sette ûntkymje en bloeie en rispje
Safolle simmerrein bringt sykten en dy binne syn fijân
Hy giet foaroan yn de striid tsjin it kwea

II
En rein folle de fuorgen as doe de puozzen
sa dat de net te kearen bal op fiif earsten en seis gelyk
smoarde yn it wetter en hy de krâns wûn

No mist er de tragens fan ’t fytsen
mei de krâns om it stjoer doe’t er
yn it lêste jier fan ’e skoalle foar de bui
reinskûle yn’t bosk en yn sliep foel
op in pear pakken âld strie

Hy plôket en plôket de earms fol mei lof
en hy werkent it plak en de faam dy’t dêr sjongt

Bist ûnderweis nei Sint Anne yn ’t Bildt
Jirpels, nôt en ek noch wat kij
Groetsje my dan dy man yn it fjild
Hy wie ienris de leafste fan my

III
Sy mei it krollige hier makke him wekker en sei him
Wat sil dit? De rein is al oer en do leist hjir te sliepen?
Ik laitsje om dy en dat docht my goed
Us mem dy is stoarn en ús heit woe wei fan ’e greiden
en waard hjir in bouboer Sjoch dit is ús lân
En de kij dy’t hjir binne dy hâldt er foar my
foar de waarmte en de beweging

Do hast de krâns wûn mar ik fûn him wat drôvich
en makke him moaier mei it blêd fan de biten
en it lof fan de jirpels Kom sis my hoe ast it fynst

En hy seach dat it goed wie en woe fierder
nei hûs ta mar de fytsbân wie plat
Dy kinsto yn ’t weinhok wol plakke en sy folge him nei binnen
en de doar bleau ticht oan ’t it goud út de loft wie

De krâns liet er hingje oan it hûs fan syn âlden
oan ’t it jirpellof ferpolvere wie
en hy learde oer jirpels en waard ynspekteur

IV
Famke do bist noch sa jong
dat do kinst de boerinne net wêze
en dat liet hoe komst der dochs by?

Fan ús mem dy sjongt dat somtiden
mar ik haw har nea frege wêrom
Sy hâldt hjir de jirpels en kij

Jou dan dit lof oan jim mem
en lit har goed sjen Sis har
dat se wat dwaan moat
oars giet alles oan phytophtora ferlern

Mar boppe-al en dat meist net ferjitte
Doch har de groetnis
fan dy man yn it fjild

 

 

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine

The potato inspector

I
If one summer’s day you come down from St. Anne in the Bildt
don’t forget to stop where you see the cows’ land green
near the woods of which it is said
that they were near the old monastery one day
You’ll see it among the crop fields potatoes and beets
and if you’re in luck a maiden in blue overalls
fetches the cows to milk them and she sings a song

If you’re going to St. Anne in the Bildt
Potatoes and corn and some cattle so fine
Convey my regards to the man in the field
He once was a true love of mine

A man wanders around the potato fields
In rows the ridges The land fully covered They flower
His wandering serves a purpose for
he measures and he jots down and he counts because the potatoes
stick to the laws of planting germinating and growing and harvesting
Such amounts of summer rain bring pests and they are the enemy
He is at the forefront of the fight against evil

II
And rain filled the furrows and then the pools
stopping the unstoppable matchpoint-ball dead
in the water and he won the victor’s wreath
Now he misses the sluggishness of riding a bike
with the wreath around the steer during the final
year of school when he got caught in the rain
and found shelter in the woods
and fell asleep on a pile of straw
He picks and he gathers arms full of potato plants
and he knows the place and the maiden who is singing

If you’re going to St. Anne in the Bildt
Potatoes and corn and some cattle so fine
Convey my regards to the man in the field
He once was a true love of mine

III
The girl with the curly hair roused him and asked
What is this? The rain has passed and you’re here asleep?
You make me smile and your smile lifts me up
Mother passed away and father wanted to escape the pastures
and became an crop farmer here Look this is our land
And our cows he keeps them just for me
for the sake of warmth and moving

You have won the wreath but I thought it looked somewhat sad
and spruced it up with leaves from beets
and the plants of potatoes Come tell me what you think of it

And he saw it was good and wanted to
carry on home but his bike had a flat tire
You can fix it in the car barn and she followed him inside
and the door remained shut until the gold washed from the sky

The wreath was left to hang at his parents’ house
until the potato plants had turned to dust
and he studied potatoes and became an inspector

IV
Girl you are way too young
so you cannot be the farmer’s wife
and that song where did you learn it?

My mother sings it sometimes
but I never asked her why
She is the farmer and nobody’s wife

Please then bring her these plants
and show them carefully Tell her
to do something and act before
everything is lost to Phytophthora

But above all and you should not forget
to say hello and wish her all the best
from the man in the field.

Translation: Arjan Hut & Simon Oosting