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A section euver ‘t gebroek van ós modeshtaal, dialect, flat, Limburgish.
John Hertogh in collaboration with Veldeke Krènk Zitterd-Gelaen-Bor
Poetry and the fruit year
The poet Herman Gorter already wrote in 1889: ‘A new spring and a new sound; I want this poem to sound like the whistle that I heard on a late summer night; an end awd sjtedje along the aw grach…’ Hae haw ‘t waal euver de mondj with me! (The translation is from non-targeted.)
As Zwentibolddichter I wrote in 2018: ‘I see the first crocuses, pale and blue, meet the last snow and I smell a soft wind that plagues the earth, all the more. Ich heur was the bird’s singing song of the tree. I feel that the fearless eikhäöre has given itself to the accidental dream. I saw that the first crown crane was highly euvervleige with a powerful stroke. Ich vuil ‘t vruigjaor, geer ouch..?’
Vruiger one something
And noe is already in more. I had to pay attention whether it had been asked on February 24, because vruiger saw me: ‘Is it óm Sint Mattis (February 24) vrus, vrus it still 40 nights!’ Doe vónj me ouch dat ‘t landj neit veur hawf meert bewirk moch waere: ‘Ich zeen liver eine wolf in ‘t veldj es veur hawf meert eine ploug-sjtart.’ In this tie zuut me euveral en ummer dèkser eine or mee wouve. She came a little shorter. Or me dao blie mit mót zeen? The last meal I wish I had seen where in the GaiaZoo and she would be grubby… Sjus so grubby who knows what it is. Ein beruif waer is nöt, nasty, dirty water. Give mich mer ‘eine mörgesraege, dae wie eine dans van ein awd wief neit lang.’
Still with warning spells
‘Dao felt along raege naeve dich es op dich’, sat me taege eine black eye. Taege motraege saw me: zawwelraege or zeiverraege. Perseunlik hawt ich along of eine zeumesjen day, es the sun beats me on the head. And if it’s then bumbles me: ‘She zeen hiebaove mit keigele aan ‘t sjmiete.’ And: ‘Kump me in meert unwar taege, get me raege in July.’ Or: ‘More bleak, give a full sjauur.’ Tensjlotte: ‘Raegent ‘t mit St. Albinus (1 meert) that the goat, then the farmer deit that väöl verdreit.’ Let’s hope that all that raege is still behind, especially with the St. Joepmert, which moors on Monday 20 this year in Zitterd wurt hawte. Mesjiens hit feather ós dao.
Pes the next month. Stay healthy. Responses: [email protected].