Today, in Amsterdam, the following bilingual poem was texted to my friend Martijn’s phone, from an anonymous secret admirer.
Maar waarom
ben ik slecht
ben ik goed,
twijfelen in het chaos duiken,
wat benik wat
zoek ik ben ik
gek ben ik
droomer, ben ik
saai, zeker niet
zeker, zwak sterk
waarnaartoe
gaan, 42, wat
kan ik, wat doe
ik wie en wat
wie ben ik wat
heb ik, verloren,
verder gaan, I alcool door de
bloed, le sang
crie
car le coeur explose,
point virgule,
virgule, virgule,
point.
Never fear! This poem, in Dutch and French, is composed in the two foreign languages I have a rudimentary knowledge of! Thank God! My translation is below:
But why
Am I bad
Am I good
Doubting in chaos diving
What am I, what?
I am a lunatic
I am a dreamer
Surge, not certain
Certain, weak, strong
For which to go,
42, what can I do,
what do I do
Who am I
What have I
Lost
Furhter I go,
Like alcohol in the blood
The blood cries
As the heart explodes
Period comma
Comma comma
Period.
Trés arty, no? Be honest: did one of you write this? And if you did, could you please tell Martijn, and send a photo? As is, he doesn’t know whether to be titillated or repulsed?
— Rachel Shukert