The Languages

Readers may wonder why I choose the languages I do for posting. Most of the time I write in English, which is my native language, and provide translations into French, Spanish, and Portuguese. It's not because I'm Eurocentric (I'm not), but because these are the languages, along with Italian and Esperanto, that I know well enough to edit the output of a translation program. But those are not the only languages in which I post.

There was a time when I frequently wrote in Portunhol, a mixed language from the Uruguay-Brazil border.I like the language, and I like that it does not belong to any one country. But there is no translation program for Portunhol, and I no longer live in Uruguay. Instead I post in standard Spanish and standard Portuguese, both international languages with many millions of speakers.

My choice of language is also determined in part by the subject matter of my writing, which is mostly poetry. I've recently come to realize that French is the best translation language for poetry written in English. This has a lot to do with the linguistic history of England. But if, for example, the poem is about the Holocaust, I may include a translation into Yiddish or Hebrew, although my editing of the output of the translation program is likely to be faulty. If, on the other hand, the subject of the poem is close to Hindu spirituality, I may include a translation into Hindi (because machine translation into Sanskrit is not available). If the theme of the poem is universality of some kind, I may include a translation into Esperanto, a language that I have known quite well for almost sixty years.

Many readers will have noticed my frequent inclusion of Udugi. It's a constructed language, based on Cherokee (Tsalagi, ꮳꮃꭹ) vocabulary and a simple, Esperanto-like grammar. I use it for reasons that are both sentimental and practical. First of all, I am part Cherokee through my maternal grandfather. He lived in Oklahoma, but the Cherokee genes go back to eighteenth-century North Carolina. I also feel close to Native American spirituality, and I guess all of that is the sentimental part. But there really is a practical part, as well.

Forty years ago the Cherokee language had about 26,000 speakers; now it has about 12,000, which is just 3% of its claimed tribal membership of 400,000. It has been said that you don't speak Cherokee unless you speak it from the cradle. It is, by far, the most grammatically complex language that I've studied, and adults are just not learning it. How many fluent speakers will it have in another generation? I've seen this movie before, and I know how it ends. "Udugi" means "hope," and I believe that the Udugi language is the best hope to save any part of the Tsalagi language.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler ꮨᏺꭽꮅ.

There Are Some Things / Il y a des choses / Hay algunas cosas / Tem algumas coisas

There are some things
that I cannot explain,
as a writer,
as a photographer,
or as a scholar.
I shall let
those things be.

Il y a des choses
que je ne peux pas expliquer,
en tant qu'écrivain,
en tant que photographe,
ou en tant que savant.
Je laisserai ces choses en paix.

Hay algunas cosas
que no puedo explicar,
como escritor,
como fotógrafo,
ni como un erudito.
Dejaré esas cosas en paz.

Tem algumas coisas
que eu não posso explicar,
como escritor,
como fotógrafo,
ou como um estudioso.
Vou deixar essas coisas em paz.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

A Strange Dream / Un rêve étrange / Un sueño extraño

Super Nunulam

I had an interesting dream. The place was Italy, and we were speaking Latin, but maybe not the standard language. The dream was concerning an entertainer in a wine-drinking establishment that was known as "above Nunu's place." Very strange.

Strange, but not the only occasion on which I've had a dream where Latin was spoken. One of those other dreams included a word or expression in Vulgar Latin, one that I did not consciously know in my "real" life. But of course, all of these lives are real, including the Egyptian, Brazilian, and Chinese lives.

I am reminded of a children's song in English:

Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream,
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream.


Super Nunulam

J'ai fait un rêve intéressant. C'était en Italie et nous parlions latin, mais peut-être pas la langue standard. Le rêve concernait un artiste dans un établissement de consommation de vin, connu sous le nom "au-dessus de la maison de Nunu". Très étrange.

Étrange, mais pas la seule occasion où j'ai eu un rêve où le latin était parlé. L'un de ces rêves incluait un mot ou une expression en latin vulgaire, mot que je ne connaissais pas consciemment dans ma "vraie" vie. Mais bien sûr, toutes ces vies sont réelles, y compris les vies égyptiennes, brésiliennes et chinoises.

Je me souviens d'une chanson pour enfants en anglais:

Ramer, ramer, ramer votre bateau,
doucement le long du ruisseau,
gaiement, gaiement, gaiement, gaiement,
la vie n'est qu'un rêve.


Super Nunulam

Tuve un sueño interesante. El lugar era Italia, y estábamos hablando en latín, pero quizás no el idioma estándar. El sueño se refería a un artista en un establecimiento de vino que se conocía como "encima del lugar de Nunu". Muy extraño.

Extraño, pero no es la única ocasión en la que he tenido un sueño donde se hablaba latín. Uno de esos otros sueños incluía una palabra o expresión en latín vulgar, una que no conocía conscientemente en mi vida "real". Pero, por supuesto, todas estas vidas son reales, incluidas las vidas egipcia, brasileña y china.

Recuerdo una canción infantil en inglés:

Rema rema rema tu bote,
suavemente por la corriente,
alegremente, alegremente, alegremente, alegremente,
la vida no es otra cosa que un sueño.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

His Desire / Son désir / Su deseo / Seu desejo

His desire spans millennia,
reaches across continents,
and brings rebirth.
His desire is from muladhar
to sahasrar,
from the heavens to earth
from earth to a star.
His desire is for the light,
for his primordial wife.
His desire is a sun at night,
His desire is life.

Son désir s'étend sur des millénaires,
s'étend à travers les continents,
et apporte la renaissance.
Son désir est de Muladhar
à Sahasrar,
du ciel à la terre
de la terre à une étoile.
Son désir est pour la lumière,
pour sa femme primordiale.
Son désir est un soleil la nuit,
Son désir c'est la vie.

Su deseo abarca milenios,
llega a todos los continentes,
y trae renacimiento.
Su deseo es de muladhar
a sahasrar.
de los cielos a la tierra
de la tierra a una estrella.
Su deseo es por la luz,
por su esposa primordial.
Su deseo es un sol de noche
Su deseo es la vida.

Seu desejo se estende por milênios,
alcança através dos continentes,
e traz renascimento.
Seu desejo é de muladhar
para sahasrar.
dos céus à terra
da terra para uma estrela.
Seu desejo é pela luz,
por sua esposa primordial.
Seu desejo é um sol à noite,
Seu desejo é a vida.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

Sunday Limerick #2

My apologies are due to Descartes,
Who was a bit of a fart.
I'll see his cogitatio
And raise with nudatio,
And know that I have the best part.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.

Sunday Limerick #1

There once was a man named Trump
Who said that his house was a dump.
We took the lease back
And gave him the sack:
He'll soon be out on his rump.

This limerick, by Donald Jacobson Traxler, is hereby lovingly placed into the public domain. Please share it freely.

NUDUS SUM, ERGO SUM

No one shall know my name
Until I myself shall know it.
Donald and Vladimir are the same
Unless you consider intelligence.
Some people can sometimes be fooled,
Some people can always be fooled.
Under the reddest of roses
Many thorns will be found.
Every dog has its day,
Rarely will fools go away.
Gone are the days of youth,
Only to leave us with truth.
Some people are easily fooled.
Under the giant mushroom
Much that is warm will be cooled.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald Jacobson Traxler.