liebe xii es meer iich möchäd ämall … 4 Haikus

Author: Fitzgerald Kusz
Translator: Alexander Hutchison, Donal McLaughlin, Sarah Tolley

[Translations into Scottish by Alexander Hutchison and into English by Donal McLaughlin and Sarah Tolley]

liebe XII	Love XII	Love XII
lou ä mall inn roll loo roo nou lou i di	row the blin richt doon noo an a’ll row thee	let the roller blind down now and I’ll let you

Fitzgerald Kusz From: morng sixtäs suwisu nimmä, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, 1973	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Sarah Tolley

es meer	the sea	the sea
es meer schbrichd middi felsn es blaudäd, es brülld, es flüsdäd seid millioonä joa es meer werd ned mäid es hörd ned auf es machd immä weidä es meer is blau es is gräi es is grau es meer schbrichd middi felsn di felsn horng zou si schweing seid millioonä joä es meer schbrichd middi felsn di felsn braungs meer es meer brauchd di felsn miä väschdennä es meer ned miä väschdennä di felsn ned weä schbrichd mid uns	the sea claiks to the craigs it’s been gabbin’ an bellochin an wheeplin for millions o years the sea nivver gets wabbitit nivver stauns still it’s aye tyaavin awa the sea is blae is green is grey the sea claiks t’ the craigs the craigs are herkin close their tongues have been tethert for millions o years the sea claiks t’ the craigs the craigs are thirlt t’ the sea the sea is thirlt t’ the craigs we canna faithom the sea we canna faithom the craigs fa’s spikkin til’s?	the sea speaks to the rocks it’s been chatting, been roaring, been whispering, for millions of years the sea doesn’t tire doesn’t stop it keeps going and going the sea is blue is green is grey the sea speaks to the rocks the rocks listen have been silent for millions of years the sea speaks to the rocks the rocks need the sea the sea needs the rocks we don’t get the sea we don’t get the rocks who speaks to us

Fitzgerald Kusz From: wouhii, ein lesebuch, Cadolzburg 2002	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Donal McLaughlin

iich möchäd ämall …	A widna mine …	I’d like to write
iich möchäd ämall ä gedichd schreim des mä iberoll miidhiinehmä könnäd su klaa daßs in jede husädaschn bassäd ned viel gräißä wäiä daschndäiglä obbä wemmäs rauszäichäd und vuälesädwirräd aff amm schlooch allers anders iich möchäd ämall ä gedichd schreim wemmä draffrumdrambläd derfäds ned kabuddgäih wemmäs oozindäd derfäds ned brennä wemmä midderm messä neischdechäd derfäds ned bloudn iich möchäd ämall ä gedichd schreim des kannä meä aufhaldn könnäd dessi ausbreidäd wäi ä krankheid gechä däi ka kraud gwachsn is bissi jedä mid iä ooschdeckäd iich möchäd ämall ä gedichd schreim des einfach oofangäd und nie meä aufhöräd und middndrin iich	A widna mine, ae day, comin up wi a poem that ye could cairry ony place: that teeny it wid fit intil ivry trooser pocket nae muckle bigger nor a hanky – but if ye took it oot t’ read aathin wid chynge in a blink A widna mine coming up wi a poem that if you danced aboot on it widna faa t’ bits that if you pit a licht til’t widna be consumed if you jabbit a knife intil’t widna bleed A widna mine comin up wi a poem that quidna be foonert – that wid spreid lik a dose o somethin for which there widna be ony remeid afore aabody wis richt smitten A widna mine comin up wi a poem that wid jist get under wey an nivver come t’ a close an smack dab in the middle o’t aa wid be me	I’d like to write a poem at some point that you could take anywhere with you so small it would fit into every trouser pocket and not much bigger than a hankie but if you took it out and read it out everything would change instantly I’d like to write a poem at some point that if you jumped about on it wouldn´t fall apart that if you set it alight wouldn’t burn that if you stuck a knife into it wouldn´t bleed I´d like to write a poem at some point that couldn´t be stopped that would spread like an illness for which there wouldn´t be a cure until everyone had caught it I´d like to write a poem at some point that would simply start and would never end and right there in among it all would be me

Fitzgerald Kusz From: muggn, gedichte, Cadolzburg 2007	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Donal McLaughlin

4 Haikus
in jedä nachd vo jemand anders draimä: su kummd mä aa undi di laid!	tae dream o ither fowk ivry nicht – jist anither wey o gettin acquantit	dreaming of someone else every night it’s just another way of meeting folk!

Fitzgerald Kusz	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Sarah Tolley

ä naßkalde novembänachd: wenn di audo schloufm fangä di bamm zum blaudern oo	a caal dreich November nicht fan the motors are nappin the trees crank up wi their claik	a chilly damp november night when the cars are sleeping that’s when the trees start chatting

Fitzgerald Kusz	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Sarah Tolley

drei zeiln ibern schnäi? aff di erschd fälldä aff dä zweidn bleibdä lieng aff dä driddn schmilzdä	three lines aboot snaa first it faas, syne it bides neist it’s aa meltit awa	three lines about the snow? on the first it falls on the second it lies on the third it melts

Fitzgerald Kusz From: wouhii, ein lesebuch, Cadolzburg, 2002.	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Sarah Tolley

so edz gäihi middä fernbedienung aff di schdraß und drigg: obbä di laid senn immä nu dou	richt, a’ve taen my remote on a daunner ootside an thoombed it – bit the fowk dinna tak the hint	so now i’ve taken my remote out onto the street and pressed it but the people are still there

Fitzgerald Kusz From: schdernla, 144 haikus, Cadolzburg, 1996.	Scots by Alexander Hutchison	English by Sarah Tolley