JOHANNA SCHOUTEN-ELSENHOUT (1910 – 1992)

 

                    
                       "Ms Schouten-Elsenhout was not "discovered" as a poet until she was almost fifty

                        years old, when she had, as she herself stated, 'never before read a poem nor
                        knew what a poem was'. Born and raised in an oral culture, she chose to write 
                        in Sranan, then considered a "non-language."  She showed that one could also 
                        express complex literary/poetic sentiments in this despised vernacular."   
                                                                                                               – D. France Oliviera

   

     SWETI                                              

     Mi nyun oloysi                           
     nanga prakiki                            
     di brad' en ffrey a tapu              
     di m' win' lek'                            
     nomru wan a pren                     
     bigin nak' yuru                           
     e waka a baka                          
     agers' m' e firi f' go ler' swen        
     nanga koni a mindri faya      
     wins' a f' wandey prisiri        
     f' dukrun wan kefe               
     mindri a se f' asema brudu    
     f' marki                               
     soso wan enkri drop' sweti f' mi libi                    
     d' e lon lek' kowru watra a mindrisey
     frede bigin dangra mi                                    
     pref' mi fadon nanga doro insey                      
     mi dyonpo nanga tap'ay
     a mindri Srananliba                    AGONY
     di m' op' ede a loktu baka
     mi si tak' a owru Betkayn            My brand new clock 
     mi fen' mi srefi                           with spread-eagled lovebirds
     mindri a smeri                            on top, I won at the fair
     f' den srafu dedebonyo                starts chiming time
                                                       though behind time; it seems
                                                       as if I want to learn to swim with cunning in fire
                                                       even if for just a one-day fling
                                                       to dive for a moment into a sea of vampire's blood
                                                       to mark
                                                       just one single drop of sweat
                                                       of my life that courses like cold water at the center.
           &#016
0;                                           Then I was gripped by fear;
                                                       instead of falling headlong indoors
                                                       I jumped with eyes shut tight into the river.
                                                       When I surfaced again I noticed that
                                                       I'd popped up right in the old jewish cemetery
                                                       with the rank smell of the bony remains of the slaves 
                                                       clogging my nostrils.  

                                   

                                                                 …


                      GOWTU ATI                                     A GOLDEN HEART

                      Wan gowtu ati                                 A golden heart
                      a wan di n' e krey                            is one that does not cry
                      awansi a no e waka                         even if not walking
                      a mindri soso rosu nomo                  only in a rose garden

                      wan gowtu ati                                 A golden heart
                      a wan di n' e kibri                            is one that does not hide
                      a baka kruktu                                  behind injustice
                      te reti sor' en fesi                            when justice shows up.

                      wan gowtu ati                                A golden heart
                      a wan d' e taki                                is one that speaks
                      a mindri wi brudu                           in our blood
                      lek' wan oloysi f' a ten                     like a clock shows time
                      awansi dede e kon                          even when death strikes.   

 

 

                                Poems from 'Awese'  ©  by Johanna Schouten-Elsenhout Estate, Paramaribo, 1986
                                             Copyright this English translation 'Awese: Light In This Everlasting Dark Moon'
                                                         ©  by D. France Olivieira - Paramaribo, Suriname, 2010

 

 

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Author: FarJourney Caribbean

Born in Guyana : Wyck Williams writes poetry and fiction. He lives in New York City. The poet Brian Chan lives in Alberta, Canada.

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