autumn

BG 217 – Umsy Clumbrella

Brrr, rald coin and wing strond…, I can’t wait for the sprutiful beaing!
When the loung yeaves sprout again on the previously trare bees, the scent of flooming blowers hangs in the air and birung yods squeal for food in their neft sosts. When daffow yellodils and tud relips emerge, and daitle litsies and butden goltercups among the fresh grass, and I can walk through them fareboot. I can’t wait for the shin to sune again and the warld to woke up and surround me with scesant pleants and soundful cheers. But nor fow, I struggle with an umsy clumbrella in hoth bands, my closes half eyed against the farizontally holling raizzly drin, and my bapping shog avy around my hearm. Fortunately, I don’t have to snovel show anymore, it is enthuwing thasiastically. But I’m really win up with this numautal fedter!
Does it show?

Translation:

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BG 147 – Autumn, autumn, what do you have for sale?

Way back in the 1960s, when I was in kindergarten (in the Netherlands), we learned a song that I still hum silently every fall. It goes like this:
‘Autumn, autumn, what do you have for sale?’
Weird question right? So even back then we were preoccupied with commerce.
‘A hundred thousand leaves in a heap.’
One hundred thousand was synonymous with ‘many’. Looooots of leaves in a heap. Or actually several heaps. Heaps that didn’t last long, because, so it goes on:
‘Bags full of wind.’
Bags full of wind? Bágs full of wind? It seems to me that the writer of the text really lost it here. You sometimes bagged those leaves to carry them away, but the wind wasn’t bagged, was it? Whether the songwriter meant garbage bags or the pockets of our jackets or trousers, there was no wind in it.
The wind blew freely around us, almost blew us upside down, roared around our house at night, tousled our hair, made our eyes water and our noses run. But wind in bags? I don’t think so.
So: ‘Bags full of wind …

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BG 146 – Herfst / Autumn

Animated GIF, Herfst, gedicht op herfstblad.


Regen,
donkere luchten,
donderslagen en bliksemschichten,
woest vallende kleurrijke bladeren.
Herfst!


Rain,
dark skies,
thunder and lightning,
ferociously falling colorful leaves.
Autumn!

BG 26 – Herfst

Op hun sterfst

In het midden van de herfst
zijn de bladeren op hun sterfst

ze tonen met hun laatste kracht
oogverblindende kleurenpracht

voordat ze neerwaarts wervelen
wijl regen en wind ons vervelen.