Ufarassus

Ufarassus is the Gothic translation of a poem written by the poet Bert Bevers in Dutch, the poem is translated into Gothic by Runareiks (Hrothiland Bairhteins), Germanist J. G. Quak and Tom de Herdt and was published in the online magazine for art & literature Fleurs du Mal.

Ufarassus

Afar slepa wada saino in wato
Ni aiw taujau þata. Jabai
sildaleikja hva tauja her, usreisis.

Miþ juggamma þraihanamma leika þatei kann
fram alþaim frisahtim, akei
miþ haubida þammei ik smeita hnasqo

þanuh wast in aftumistin mela. Waist
nauh? Ufhlohis. „Ni fraþja!
Niu þus swimman wulþrais ist,

frijond meins?“ qiþis. Jah anapraggis mik nataba du
baurstai þeinai, ist swaswe sei ist meina.
“Afsatja atta,”, qiþa. ƕar is allai þizai ƕeilai?

English:

Overflow

In the after sleep I slowly wade into
the water. I never do. When dripping I
wonder what I am doing here, you resurrect.

With the young slender body which I know
from old pictures, serrated border and all,
yet with the head I so gently stroked

when you almost were on your last breath.
Remember? You smile. “What’s all this then?
You didn’t care about swimming at all,

boy?” you say. And you clasp me wet against
your chest so like mine. “Hey dad,” I say.
“Hi daddy. Where are you all the time?”

Translated by Annmarie Sauer

Dutch:

Overvloed

In de naslaap waad ik langzaam water
in. Dat doe ik nooit. Als ik me druipend
afvraag wat ik hier te doen sta verrijs jij.

Met het jonge slanke lichaam dat ik ken
van oude foto’s, gekartelrand en al, maar
met het hoofd dat ik zo zachtjes streelde

toen je bijna aan je laatste adem. Weet je
nog? Je glimlacht. “Wat krijgen we nou?
Jij gaf toch helemaal niets om zwemmen,

jongen?” zeg je. En je drukt me nat tegen
je borst die zo op de mijne lijkt. “Dag pa,”
zeg ik. “Dag papa. Waar ben je al die tijd?”