Halfdan Rasmussen 108 years.

I dag er det Halfdan Rasmussens 108 års fødselsdag. Lige som på hans 105 og 106 og 106½  års fødselsdag bringer Uglemor et af de otte børnerim, der er blevet bortcensurerede i den nyeste udgave af hans samlede værker. Jeg vil gentage dette på de næste fødselsdage hvis jeg lever så længe.
     Denne censur gør mig ondt, dels fordi de ord, han brugte, dengang var neutrale ord for folk og folkeslag og det derfor burde være muligt at bringe dem - eventuelt med fodnoter eller et forklarende forord. Dels fordi slags amerikanske tilstande med fornærmelses-parathed og følsomheds-censur på andres vegne ikke burde forekomme - og da slet ikke ramme Halfdan Rasmussen, der faktisk var en stor og modig forkæmper for folk, frihed og menneskerettigheder og imod censur. Hans vers om Bødlen for eksempel burde være tvungen læsning for alle mennesker i hele verden.
     Og i det tilfælde at du ikke lige kan huske det, vil jeg gengive Elephant's Child's kloge kommentar: "Clothes and people's expectations frequently do chafe. And itch." (tøj og folks forventninger generer ofte - og klør.)

-- 🎂 --

  Today is the 108th birthday of Halfdan Rasmussen. Maybe one of the greatest Danish contemporary poets. MotherOwl holds him in high esteem, and on the occasion of his birthday I will, like at his 105th 106th and 106½th birthdays, publish one of the eight rhymes for children that was censored from the latest collection - and will continue to do so for his next birthday, if I live long enough.
  This censorship grieves me as Halfdan Rasmussen is truly a great fighter for freedom and equality, his pen wrote the Danish verse that was turned into Each Small Candle.
  The words he used, were the at that time neutral demonyms, and the verses should be included, maybe with a footnote or a preamble.

I wrote that I did not want to make an English versification of the poems, as my less than perfect English poetry would make the verses rather pedestrian.  I mourn the fact that I'm not a poetic genius able to render them full justice. His equilibristic verses are serious even at their most playful, and never serious without at least a touch of humour.
  But after seeing what Google translate did to those verses, I am supplying a translation - word for word, or rather meaning for meaning with no pretension of any versification.
  And just in case you can not remember ;) I want to add Elephant's Child's wise comment here: "Clothes and people's expectations frequently do chafe. And itch."

-- 🎂 --

En liste over alle de bortcensurerede vers og hvor de er udgivet.

All the censored verses and from where they come.

1. Lille negerdukke (Børnerim) (2020)
   
2. To små negerdukker (Børnerim) (2021)
   
3. Hittehattehættehuer (Børnerim)
4. Rikke (Børnerim)
5. Negerdukken lille Sam (Børnerim)
6. Sikken et hus (Børnerim)
7. Nogle øjne er så smukke (Halfdans rim)
8. Alle bilerne fra landet (Halfdans rim)

Negerdukken Lille Sam
Negerdukken lille Sam                                    The Negro doll called Little Sam
kan ikke gøre for det.                                       He just can not help it.
Han kan bare ses ved dag.                                He can only be seen in the daylight,
Om natten bliver han borte!                             He disappears at night!

Mors fine dug er hvid.                                      Mamas best tablecloth is white
Jeg syr en skjorte af den.                                  I'll sew a small shirt from it
Så kan Sam få skjorten på                                Then Little Sam can put it on
så han kan ses om natten!                                And be seen by night as well!

Og her er så Lille Sam ved nattetid i sin fine, hvid skjorte.
And here is Little Sam by night in his new, white shirt.

It reminds me of another poem Which I might find and bring later.

Poetry Monday :: Girlfriends

Poetry Monday - that's today!  Diane - who has taken over the hosting of  this challenge - and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings - who supplies us with many of the topics - are also writing wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read them!
  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month!
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.
  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way, now that her mum's health is in need of a prayer too. But still we dare hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

  But  today's theme: Girlfriends? ... No, not going to happen. I don't know why, but all the caboodle with Best Friends Forever and so on scared me at school. Of course I had  friends not many, but I had them, girl friends and boy friends. But being boys or girls was not what mattered, if you understand ...  Then again I'm not going to opt out of Poetry Monday just because the theme does not speak to me.
  Let's talk a girl's best friend instead. No, not diamonds, dogs or boys. Horses top the list!

En vej går ind i himlen (Min lille hest)                             A road leads into haven (My little Horse)
Tekst/Lyrics: Halfdan Rasmussen,                                                      Melodi/Music: Hanne Passer, 1984

  Bad translation: MotherOwl, 2018-2022

En vej går ind i himlen hvor jeg bor                          A road leads into heaven where I dwell
imellem hvide sky'r og grønne marker.                      Meandering through clouds and grassy meadows
Ved vejen står en lille hest og sparker                        A little horse is waiting in the shadows.
og spiser græs og vokser og blir' stor.                        He eats his grass and everything is well.

Når dagen gryr' og vækker blomst og bi,                 When day is dawning, waking up the bees,
og lyset planter trær' og rosenranker,                       The sunlight planting trees and golden cornstalks.
da står min lille hest med våde flanker,                    The little horse, with dewy hoofs and fetlocks
og vrinsker en godmorgenmelodi.                            Is neighing his good morning to the breeze

Når middagsstunden slår sin vifte ud,                      When midday's sun is burning hot and clear
og solen brænder havren tung og gylden,                 And sunshine makes the oats all ripe and golden,
da går min lille hest i læ bag hylden                         My little horse is hiding in the rowan
og kysser den og mener den er gud.                          He kisses it and thinks it is a dear.

Ved aften blir' den hentet af en dreng,                      When evening comes, a boy comes for the horse
som klapper den på mulen mens han snakker.          He strokes its muzzle gently as they're talking.
Så går de sammen mellem lave bakker,                    Then through the rolling meadows they go walking,
hvor åen nynner som en gylden streng.                    Along the streamlet's humming silver course.

Men kommer natten ridende fra vest                        But when the night comes riding from the West
med dug på koderne og sølvblå tømme,                   With dewy mane and starlit, skyblue stirrups
da går min lille hest herud i drømme,                       My little horse comes riding in the moonlight
og derfor elsker jeg min lille hest.                            And that is why I love my horse the best.



Listen here in Danish - this is the one most like what I remember. The 2 first verses are best:

 - - - - -

Next Monday: Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbour's Porch Night

Poetry Monday :: Cats - Halfdan Rasmussen

Ups jeg har taget fejl, Tak til Messymimi for at gøre mig opmærksom på det. Dagens tema er faktisk isbåde eller is-sadwiches. Jeg laver altså ikke om på dette her; ikke mindst fordi jeg aldrig har brudt mig om kikse-ting, hverken som slik eller i is.

--

Oops. Today's theme was not cats, but Icecream sandwiches. Thanks to MessyMimi for telling me.
I am not going to make a new post for several reasons. The last, but not least of these being my intense dislike for everything biscuity in my candy or icecream.

-- 🍦 --

I torsdags fyldte Halfdan Rasmussen 106½ år. Er det nu noget at fejre? Måske ikke, man mandagens stikord er Cats - Katte, og de absolut eneste poetiske katte, der falder mig ind, er Halfdans Katte med kutter fra Halfdans børnerim, 1967.

Sikke et hus!
Mus i mit krus!
Rotter i potter
og katte med kutter
og fem hottentotter
der sidder og prutter!

  Det er et af de censurerede digte, som jeg har lovet mig selv at udgive ét af hvert år på hans  fødselsdag, 29. januar. Men i dag er jeg forkølet, sur og gnaven, og det regner, så og jeg trænger til lidt ordekvilibrisme til at fornøje og varme mig på.
  Han er i min optik en af de bedste, modigste og velskrivende digtere det danske sprog nogensinde har haft. Hvis du har lyst til at se mine gamle indlæg om ham og hans digte, er her et link: Halfdan Rasmussen  Og så skriver jeg nok så kategorisk, at jeg ikke vil oversætte hans digte til engelsk, men jeg har altså gjort det alligevel og vil fortsætte med at gøre det, dels fordi Google oversæt laver et makværk ud af hans ord, og dels fordi jeg skammede mig over at censurere mig selv, for som jeg skrev:

Denne censur gør mig ondt, dels fordi de ord, han brugte, dengang var neutrale ord for folk og folkeslag og det derfor burde være muligt at bringe dem - eventuelt med fodnoter eller et forklarende forord. Dels fordi slags amerikanske tilstande med fornærmelses-parathed og følsomheds-censur på andres vegne ikke burde forekomme - og da slet ikke ramme Halfdan Rasmussen, der faktisk var en stor og modig forkæmper for folk, frihed og menneskerettigheder og imod censur. Hans vers om Bødlen for eksempel burde være tvungen læsning for alle mennesker i hele verden.

-- 😼 --

Last Thursday marked the 106½ anniversary of the birth of Halfdan Rasmussen, my idol wherever poetry, word-smithing and so on is concerned. He was the greatest Dane ever! Maybe a past half years birthday is not a reason to celebrate, But this Monday's topic is Cats, and the absolutely only poetic cats entering my brain are some of his dressed in cowls (remade to hats for reason of rhyme) in the following poem.

Halfdan Rasmussen, børnerim (Rhymes for Children 1967)

Oh what a house!
In my mug there's a mouse!
Rats in pots
And cats in Hats.
And five Hottentots
who are farting a lot!

  This is actually one of his censored poems, I have promised to bring one of  on every birthday of his until I run out of poems. But today I'm having a cold, I'm feeling old and grumpy and it's raining. I need one of his equilibristic, light-hearted, yet serious verses to keep up my spirits.
  If you want to read my old post on this genius, please go here: Halfdan Rasmussen  In these posts, I declare never to translate any of the censored poems: I did so anyway, because I felt ashamed of being afraid!
  I'll cite myself from a birthday post:

  This censorship grieves me as Halfdan Rasmussen is truly a great fighter for freedom and equality, his pen wrote the Danish verse that was turned into Each Small Candle.
  The words he used, were the at that time neutral demonyms, and the verses should be included, maybe with a footnote or a preamble.

Actually I made a second version of this poem. Is it better or worse?

Oh what a house!
In my mug there's a mouse!
Rats in pots
And cats in cowls.
And five Hottentots
who sit and scowl!

Now shoot ◎←←↙

Halfdans forbudte digte 29/1 2021

I dag er det Halfdan Rasmussens 106 års fødselsdag. Lige som sidste år bringer Uglemor et af de otte børnerim, der er blevet bortcensurerede i den nyeste udgave af hans samlede værker. Jeg vil gentage dette på de næste 6 fødselsdage hvis jeg lever så længe.
     Denne censur gør mig ondt, dels fordi de ord, han brugte, dengang var neutrale ord for folk og folkeslag og det derfor burde være muligt at bringe dem - eventuelt med fodnoter eller et forklarende forord. Dels fordi slags amerikanske tilstande med fornærmelses-parathed og følsomheds-censur på andres vegne ikke burde forekomme - og da slet ikke ramme Halfdan Rasmussen, der faktisk var en stor og modig forkæmper for folk, frihed og menneskerettigheder og imod censur. Hans vers om Bødlen for eksempel burde være tvungen læsning for alle mennesker i hele verden.
     Og i det tilfælde att du ikke læser kommentarerne, vil jeg lige gengive Elephant's Child's kloge kommentar: "Clothes and people's expectations frequently do chafe. And itch." (tøj og folks forventninger generer ofte - og klør.)

-- 🎂 --

  Today is the 106th birthday of Halfdan Rasmussen. Maybe one of the greatest Danish contemporary poets. MotherOwl holds him in high esteem, and on the occasion of his birthday I will, like last year, publish one of the eight rhymes for children that was censored from the latest collection - and will continue to do so for his next six birthday, if I live long enough.
  This censorship grieves me as Halfdan Rasmussen is truly a great fighter for freedom and equality, his pen wrote the Danish verse that was turned into Each Small Candle.
  The words he used, were the at that time neutral demonyms, and the verses should be included, maybe with a footnote or a preamble.

   There won't be an English versification of the poems, as my less than perfect English poetry made the verses rather pedestrian.  I mourn the fact that I'm not a poetic genius able to render them full justice. His equilibristic verses are serious even at their most playful, and never serious without at least a touch of humour.
  But after seeing what Google translate did to those verses, I am supplying a translation - word for word, or rather meaning for meaning with no pretension of any versification. Last year's poem will be updated in the same way.
  And just in case you do not read the comments I want to insert Elephant's Child's wise connet here: "Clothes and people's expectations frequently do chafe. And itch."

-- 🎂 --

En liste over alle de bortcensurerede vers og hvor de er udgivet. Jeg begyndte med nummer 1 sidste år, og fortsætter med nummer 2 i år.

All the censored verses and from where they come. I began with number one last year, and will just tacle then one at a time.

1. Lille negerdukke (Børnerim) (2020)
   
2. To små negerdukker (Børnerim) (2021)
   
3. Hittehattehættehuer (Børnerim)
4. Rikke (Børnerim)
5. Negerdukken lille Sam (Børnerim)
6. Sikken et hus (Børnerim)
7. Nogle øjne er så smukke (Halfdans rim)
8. Alle bilerne fra landet (Halfdans rim)

To små negerdukker
To små søde negerdukker                  Two cute little Negro dolls
gik i byen efter sukker,                       Went to town to buy some sugar
men da de var splitternøgne                But as they were stark naked
gjorde godtfolk store øjne.                 Goodly people were gawping.

På et torv med flotte huse                 In a square with pretty houses
Købte de sig hver en bluse                each of them bought a blouse
For at prøve på at dække                   trying to cover up                                                                   
Det som var så kønt hos begge.         what was pretty in both of them.

Bluser er så tit så korte.                    Blouses are often very short
Og skønt numserne var sorte            and even though the bums were black
stirred folk så uanstændigt                people stared without decency
at det føltes næsten skændigt.           it was almost shameful

To små søde negerdukker                 Two cute little Negro dolls 
skyndte sig at købe sukker,               hurried up and bought the sugar
og hos frøken Tummelumsen            and at Mrs. Tummelumsen's*
fik de sko og skørt om numsen.        they got shoes and a shirt around their bums.

Tøj er varmt og sko kan klemme,     Clothes are hot, and shoes can pinch,
så da de igen var hjemme                 when they reached their home again
smed de tøjet over stolen                   they threw their clothes upon a chair
og løb nøgne ud i solen.                    and ran naked into the sun.

                                                                                

* Name from a book (Livsens Ondskab by Gustav Wied). The name sounds funny and like Mrs. Dizzy

Poetry Monday :: Not Afraid

  Diane of On the Border and Jenny of Procrastinating Donkey are taking turns hosting Poetry Monday.
   This week Diane had said, we'll talk of Things that Scare Us now

 A repeat post from Tuesday February 17, 2015

One of my favourite poets, Halfdan Rasmussen is famous for his playful and equilibristic poems for children. But he had a serious side too; he wrote poems filled with social indignation and courage. This verse was translated into English (by Mary McGovern?);  Roger Waters used it as the first verse of his Each Small Candle:

Not the torturer will scare me

Nor the body's final fall

Nor the barrels of death's rifles

Nor the shadows on the wall

Nor the night when to the ground

The last dim star of pain, is held

But the blind indifference

Of a merciless unfeeling world.


For next Monday Jenny has given us: Your Favourite Lunch.
 

  - - - - - -

Gentagelse fra tirsdag den 17. februar 2015

Halfdan Rasmussen er nok mest kendt for sine vidunderlige og sprogligt legende børnerim, men han var også en alvorlig digter med et stort samfundsmæssigt engagement. I dag er det på sin plads med et af hans mere alvorlige digte:

Ikke bødlen gør mig bange.

ikke hadet og torturen,

ikke dødens riffelgange 

eller skyggerne på muren.

Ikke nætterne, når smertens sidste stjerne styrter ned,

men den nådesløse verdens blinde ligegyldighed.

 - Halfdan Rasmussen (1915-2002)

Halfdan Rasmussen 105 år

     I dag er det Halfdan Rasmussens 105 års fødselsdag. I den anledning bringer Uglemor et af de otte af hans børnerim, der er blevet bortcensurerede i den nyeste udgave af hans samlede værker. Jeg vil gentage dette på de næste 7 fødselsdage hvis jeg lever så længe.
     Denne censur gør mig ondt, dels fordi de ord, han brugte, dengang var neutrale ord for folk og folkeslag og det derfor burde være muligt at bringe dem - eventuelt med fodnoter eller et forklarende forord. Dels fordi slags amerikanske tilstande med fornærmelses-parathed og følsomheds-censur på andres vegne ikke burde forekomme - og da slet ikke ramme Halfdan Rasmussen, der faktisk var en stor og modig forkæmper for folk, frihed og menneskerettigheder og imod censur. Hans vers om Bødlen for eksempel burde være tvungen læsning for alle mennesker i hele verden.

-- 🎂 --

  Today is the 105th birthday of Halfdan Rasmussen. Maybe one of the greatest Danish contemporary poets. MotherOwl holds him in high esteem, and on the occasion of his birthday I publish one of the eight rhymes for children that was censored from the latest collection - and will continue to do so for the next seven birthday, if I live long enough.
  This censorship grieves me as Halfdan Rasmussen is truly a great fighter for freedom and equality, his pen wrote the Danish verse that was turned into Each Small Candle.
  The words he used, were the at that time neutral demonyms, and the verses should be included, maybe with a footnote or a preamble.

   There won't be an English translation. For two reasons:
-  First and most important. My less than perfect English translations made the verses rather pedestrian.  I mourn the fact that I'm not a poetic genius able to render them full justice. His equilibristic verses are serious even at their most playful, and never serious without at least a touch of humour.
- Second and with regrets I censor myself (but only in English - please feel free to use Google translate). I do not want to offend any thin-skinned and senstitive (American) readers of this blog. I've had far too many not so nice comments and experiences already in 2020, and I don't want any more.

-- 🎂 --

     En liste over alle de bortcensurerede vers og hvor de er udgivet. Jeg begynder med nummer 1.
  All the censored verses and from which book they originally came. I'll just begin with number one.

1. Lille negerdukke (Børnerim) (2020)
   
2. Hittehattehættehuer (Børnerim)
3. Rikke (Børnerim)
4. Negerdukken lille Sam (Børnerim)
5. Sikken et hus (Børnerim)
6. To små negerdukker (Børnerim)
7. Nogle øjne er så smukke (Halfdans rim)
8. Alle bilerne fra landet (Halfdans rim)

Lille negerdukke                       Little Negro Doll
Lille negerdukke                         Little Negro doll
sover i min seng                          is sleeping in my bed
sammen med en dejlig                together with a lovely
gul kineserdreng.                        yellow Chinese boy

Jeg har sunget mine                    I've sung both of my
kære børn til ro,                          dear children off to sleep
klappet dem på kinden,               Patted their small cheeks,
kysset begge to.                          given both a kiss

Vi er een familie.                       We are one family,
Børn af samme jord.                  children of the same earth
Sov, min sorte søster!                Sleep, my black sister!
Sov, min gule bror!                    Sleep, my yellow brother!

-- 🎂 --

I bogen er der en charmerende tegning af en lille pige, der sover sammen med sine dukker. Ikke helt korrekt ifølge teksten, men den er altså sød. Undskyld den ringe billedkvalitet af scanningen her.

-- 🎂 --

In the book there's a charming illustration of a little girl sleeping with her dolls.  Not quite according to the text, but sweet anyway. I'm sorry about the poor quality of this scan.

Grøntsagsspiservisen

English summary:

   One of my idols, the Norwegian Thorbjørn Egner, wrote a song called the Vegetable Eaters' Song. In the book Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven (The Animals of Huckybucky Forest) it is sung to celebrate the new law, prohibiting all inhabitants of the forest to eat one another.
  I have re-translated bits of it, because I think that the vegetarian bias present in the Danish version is not true to the original's more bantering spirit.

-- 🥕 --

     For en gangs skyld vil Uglemor tillade sig at kritisere Halfdan Rasmussen. Hans oversættelser af sangene fra Thorbjørn Egners bøger er jo ellers helt geniale, og Thorbjørn Egner forbedrede endda engang en af sangene efter at have læst Halfdans oversættelse.
     Men lige Grønstagsspisevisen fra Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven synes Uglemor ikke han har været heldig med. Som den fremstår nu, er den nærmest en slags vegetarernes kampsang.
     Det synes Uglemor ikke passer til den legende og sammenholds-opfordrende tone i bogen. Visen er jo i bogen skrevet for at fejre den nye lov efter hvilken dyrene i Hakkebakkeskoven ikke længere må æde hinanden. Og så synes hun også at det er synd og skam at pebernødderne ikke er med på dansk. Bogen handler jo trods alt også om peberkager.

Her er så først den norske original:

Den som spiser pølsemat og kjøttmat hele dagen,
han blir så doven og så lat og veldig tjukk i magen.

Men den som spiser gulrøtter, knekkebrød og peppernøtter,
tyttebær og bjørnebær og kålrot og persille.
Han blir sånn passe mett i magen, glad og lystig hele dagen
og så lett i bena at han ikke kan stå stille.


Den som vil ha bare kjøtt og spiser sine venner,
han blir så doven og så trøtt og får så stygge tenner.
Men den som spiser gulrøtter, knekkebrød og peppernøtter,
tyttebær og bjørnebær og kålrot og persille.

Han blir så grei mot dem han kjenner og får mange gode venner,
og får like fine tenner som en krokodille.


Og så Uglemors udgave af Halfdan Rasmussens oversættelse fra 1953:

Den som spiser flæskesteg og store røde bøffer
Bli'r dum og blød som bolledej og går omkring og øffer

Men, den som spiser gulerødder, knækkebrød og pebernødder,
stikkelsbær og tyttebær og grønkål og persille.
Han bli'r så godt tilpas i maven, glad og lystig, aldrig gnaven,
benene bli'r lette, så han ikke kan stå stille


Den som vil ha' kød hver dag og æder sine venner,
han får en bred og doven bag og grimme, gule tænder.

Men, den som spiser gulerødder, knækkebrød og pebernødder,
stikkelsbær og tyttebær og grønkål og persille. 
Han æder ikke sine venner, men er flink mod dem han kender
og får ligeså stærke tænder som en krokodille.

Ⓐ - Ⓩ - 18. april - Ⓠ - Quince and Queens

Ⓠ ... som der står skrevet: Q er et bogstav i alfabetet, man bruger det sjældent, men her kan du se det. (Halfdans ABC - efter hukommelsen) Og så en tegning af folk, der leger med en masse Q'er.
     De eneste der giver bare nogenlunde mening er Quiche, det hedder vist også tærte, og dette mundrette ord bliver brugt i Uglebo, så er der Quilt, men Uglemor har ikke den slags tålmodighed. Og så en Quiz, men de foregår altså ikke i haven. Så Q på dansk er ikke så godt. Det var en af grundene til at jeg truede med at måtte prøve på engelsk. Lad os se: Quaff, Quagmire, Quandary, Quarrel, Quarry, Quest, Queue, Quiet, Quiver, Quilt, Quince, Queen ... det bliver straks bedre.

     Quince betyder Kvæder:  Vi har vores smukke, men forvirrede kvæde. Fra nu af og til den første frost bærer den blomster, små frugter og modne frugter mellem hinanden. Uglemor laver kvædegelé, der spises med fornøjelse af de andre indbyggere i Uglebo.

 - Ⓐ - Ⓩ -

 Ⓠ ... My house poet, Halfdan Rasmussen, once wrote a rhymed ABC for children - and their parents. Under Q you saw a lot of people having fun throwing, climbing, going through, and in general fooling around with the letter Q. The verse said something like: Q is a letter in the alphabet. It's used very seldom, but here you see't.
And that is the trouble with Q. Apart from strange, chemical compounds and queer names, Q is used for Quiz, Quiche and Quilt.  We have no quizzes in the garden, MotherOwl's patience is not of the quilting sort - Quilt in Danish being only big blankets, smaller things are called patch work. Quiche, yes we eat that now and again, but they're always pies or tarts, never quiches.
Let's see. Q is much more used in English, that was why I threatened to use English for those obscure letters. Let's take a look: Quaff, Quagmire, Quandary, Quarrel, Quarry, Quest, Queue, Quiet, Quiver, Quilt, Quince, Queen ... now this sounds more promising, at least Quince and Queen.

Quince, we have a small, very flowery quince bush in the garden. It is a bit ... erm ... confused I'd say, in so far as it carries flowers, small fruits, and big fruits all through Spring, Summer and Autumn.

Blomstrende kvæder i aftensol - - - Flowering quince in the evening sun.

     Queen er jo dronning, og sådan nogen har vi haft adskillige af i de forgangne år. Bidronninger forstås ;) Men der er ikke flere tilbage nu. Det er både et savn og en lettelse. Et savn fordi vi ikke får bestøvet så meget eller så godt, som vi plejede. Der er helt enkelt ikke vilde bier og humler nok i haven. En lettelse fordi Uglemor jo er allergiske overfor bistik, omend vaccineret med god virkning, men alligevel. Frygten sidder stadig lige under huden.
     Himlens Dronning, Polens, Dronning, Martyrernes Dronning, Fredens Dronning ...  er alt sammen tilnavne til Jomfru Maria. Så måske skulle jeg bare vise, at jeg nu har fået malet hylden og vasket relieffet ude i haven.

 - Ⓐ - Ⓩ -

Queen. Queens we've had a load, queen bees that is. But not any more. MotherOwl is in two minds about this. She misses the pollinating job done by the bees, the wax and the honey. She totally do not miss having to fight recalcitrant, let's just call them angry, bees when tending them, or the fear of being stung. Maybe in some years bees will make a comeback in the Owlery.
But Queen: Queen of Heaven, Queen of Martyrs, Queen of Peace, Queen of the Apostles. Yes it's the Virgin Mary. Maybe MotherOwl just has to show that the relief in the garden now has its shelf painted white, and a much needed washing.

 Se, det pyntede da!     Yes, much better now.

Underlige ugle -- Quirky Owl

 

 
Underlige ugle vågner midt om natten                   Quirky owl awakens early at midnight,
Kigger efter månen, som er blevet væk                  Searches for the Moon, but it is out of sight.
Pusdser dine briller, stirrer vredt på katten,            Polishes her glasses, stares down the the cat with glee
skriver sjove digte med usynligt blæk.                    And writes her silly verses in ink we cannot see.

Tekst Halfdan Rasmussen

Oversættelse/Translation MotherOwl 

Vævede håndklæder -- Woven Towels

Uglemor har gang i et ny væve-eksperiment. Denne gang håndklæder af tykt bomuldsgarn. Egentlig ville hun have haft lyseblå striber, men det blå var allerede blevet strikket af, og der var ikke tålmodighed til at trævle op inden vævningen begyndte.

  --  Yarn Along  -- 

MotherOwl has some experimental weaving going on. Towels in thick cotton. The stripes were planned in a baby blue colour, but all MotherOwl's baby blue was knit up in a misshapen baby sweater. And MotherOwl ran out op patience for frogging before weaving.

     Læser gør Uglemor skam, men der er endnu engang ingen billeder. Uglemor læser "Folk og røvere i Kardemomme By" højt for Piraten og hvem der ellers gider at lytte. Det er Halfdan Rasmussen der har overstat til dansk, og det gør han så godt at Torbjørn Egner inkorporerede noget af oversættelsen i en senere udgave af bogen.
     Ydermere er Uglemor begyndt på at spille klaver igen efter mange år, formålet er at lære Ugleungerne sangene fra Kardemomme BY. De er virkeligt iørefaldende.

Reading, once again no pictures. But I'm reading aloud When the Robbers came to Cardamom Town in a very good Danish translation, by Halfdan Rasmussen. He did translate so well that the author, Torbjørn Egner, translated some of the verses back into Norwegian for a later edition of the book.
The songs are all earworms, and MotherOwl has taken up the piano in order to teach these songs to the Owlets.

Vejen hjem -- Solopgang - 7 - Sunrise -- On My Way Home

     Jo, solen var stået op, men det er ikke til at se. DMI siger: Solopgang: 7.34. Så når jeg forlader busstoppestedet 7.45 er solen stået op. Bum. Basta!

 - - - - -

Yes, it IS Sunrise even though you can't see it.
DMI says: Sunrise at 7.34, and as the bus departed at 7.45 the Sun has risen!

Halfdan Rasmussen er nok mest kendt for sine vidunderlige og sprogligt legende børnerim, men han var også en alvorlig digter med et stort samfundsmæssigt engagement. I dag er det på sin plads med et af hans mere alvorlige digte: 

Ikke bødlen gør mig bange.

ikke hadet og torturen,

ikke dødens riffelgange 

eller skyggerne på muren.

Ikke nætterne, når smertens sidste stjerne styrter ned,

men den nådesløse verdens blinde ligegyldighed.

 - Halfdan Rasmussen (1915-2002)

  - - - - - -

One of my favourite poets, Halfdan Rasmussen is famous for his playful and equilibristic poems for children. But he had a serious side too; he wrote poems filled with social indignation and courage. The above was translated into English (by Mary McGovern?) and Roger Waters used it as the first verse of his Each Small Candle:

Not the torturer will scare me

Nor the body's final fall

Nor the barrels of death's rifles

Nor the shadows on the wall

Nor the night when to the ground

The last dim star of pain, is held

But the blind indifference

Of a merciless unfeeling world.

Vejen hjem -- 6 -- On my way Home

     I morges klokken halv otte lå Uglemor i sin varme seng. det er jo vinterferie tænkte Uglemor. Næste tanke var, det er jo tirsdag. Hvad gør man ikke for sine læsere, Uglemor stod op og trak i tøjet og var henne ved lygtepælen til sædvanlig tid, ca. kvart i otte, for at tage det ugentlige billede af vejen hjem.
     Det var frostvejr, men det er en dårlig idé at tage billede mod øst ti minutter før solopgang. Himlen var skønt lyseblå med småbitte drivende hvide skyer, græsset var hvidt og knasende og luften klar og bidende. Lige da Uglemor puttede kameraet tilbage i lommen, fløj otte svaner hen over landskabet med lydelige vingeslag.

 - - - - -

This morning at half past seven, MotherOwl was still in her cosy bed thinking: "It's school holiday, I don't have to get up just yet." The next thought was: "Well MotherOwl, its Tuesday, get up and snap a picture for your blog. What I do for my readers!" MotherOwl got up, dressed in her woollen cloak - it was sub-zero temperature, went to the lamppost just in time to snap the weekly photo at the usual time; a quarter to eight give or take a few minutes.
 It was cold, clear and crisp. Taking photos towards east not ten minutes before sunrise manes for bad pictures. Imagine the sky pale blue with small fuzzy cloudlets, the air crisp, and the blades of grass slightly white and crunchy with frost. As MotherOwl tucked away the camera a flock of white swans flew over her head, their beating wings humming loudly.

Snemand Frost og frøken Tø
gik en tur ved Søndersø ...
(Halfdan Rasmussen) 
Snowman Frost and Lady Thaw
Took a walk around the lake ...

Stadig ikke helt solopgang, men næste uge måske.

Still not quite Sunrise, but we'll be getting there.

Solopgang/solnedgang: 7:50/17:00, dagens længde 9:10, tiltaget 2:20

- - - -

      Og så kunne jeg ikke dy mig, men måtte oversætte hele verset om den bittersøde kærlighedshistorie mellem Snemand Forst og Frøken Tø.
     En hyldest til Halfdan Rasmussen, der ville være fylde 100 år den 29. januar i år.

I just could not leave it be. I had to translate the whole bitter-sweet poem of Lady Thaw and Snowman Frost.
A tribute to the author Halfdan Rasmussen, whose 100 year's birthday was on 29th of January.

Snemand Frost og Frøken Tø                         Snowman Frost and Lady Thaw
gik en tur ved Søndersø                                  Took a walk around the lake,
fandt en bænk og slog sig ned,                        Found a bench where they sat down,
talte lidt om kærlighed.                                  Talked of love, of Kings and crowns

Snemand Frost, som var lidt bleg,                  Snowman Frost in whispers low,
spurgte:" Må jeg kysse dig?"                          Begged a kiss from Lady Thaw.
Men da frøken Tø var varm                           But the Lady Thaw was warm
smeltede hans højre arm.                                Melted off his nearest arm

Da han kyssed' hendes kind,                           When he kissed her rosy cheek,
svandt han ganske langsomt ind.                     He grew slowly less and weak
Da han kyssed' hendes mund                          When he kissed her glowing lips,
blev han væk i sammen stund.                        Off he went in tender drips.

På en bænk ved Søndersø                                On the bench beside the lake
sidder stakkels frøken Tø.                                Lady Thaw now keeps her wake.
Snemand Frost er smeltet op.                          Snowman Frost has melted, but.
Hun må ha ham i en kop!                                She has caught him in a cup!

Tekst: Halfdan Rasmussen
Oversættelse: Uglemor - Translation: MotherOwl