[nl] De Toekomst   [english]

[nederlandstalige versie, het origineel]
[english translation by DeepL (not-registered, free version)]
[english translation by Google Translate]
[english translation by me, with use of the aboves and a dictionary ]

[nl] Over deze vertaalsessie

Het leek me leuk en wellicht leerzaam, om te kijken hoe een gedicht vertaald wordt door de bekende vertaalsites. Om dan daarna zelf ook de vertaling te maken - omdat ik ook maar beperkte kennis van het Engels heb, gebruik ik dan daarvoor deze 2 vertalingen, een oude New Penguin English Dictionary, en een oud Kramers E-N, N-E woordenboek, en waarschijnlijk nog veel andere dictionary websites - meestal die met voorbeelden van de gebruikte woorden in zinnen.
En ja, als ik geld had, zou ik het door een goede vertaler laten doen, maar ik heb geen geld.

Wie het hele vertaal- en denkproces met mijn keuzes en redenaties wil lezen, spoedt u naar De Vertaalbijlage

[en] About this translating session

I thought it would be fun and perhaps instructive to see how a poem is translated by the well-known translation sites. And then do the translation myself - because I also have limited knowledge of English, I use these 2 translations, an old New Penguin English Dictionary, and an old Kramers E-N, N-E dictionary, and probably many others dictionary websites - usually those with examples of the words used in sentences.
And yes, if I had money I would have a good translator do it, but I don't have any money.

If you're interested in the whole translation process, move hastely towards theTranslation supplement (the process is written in Dutch)

De Toekomst  [nederlandstalige versie, het origineel]

Waar de wensmachine wringt
en leven hitst en fokt en vingert,
vlinderen de dagen zich langszij.

Woelgeest nadert stil rampgebied
en al is het ingewikkeld,
we omarmen ons.

Horen we het wel,
begrijpen we het nog,
- hoe dan ook,
vertrekken doen we niet.

Zie ons.
Neem ons.

Het is dat we hier wonen
met zicht op scheve daken,
En het is niet genoeg,
niet hier,
niet nu.

Vier de eeuw van de steegclowns,
de doorzaaggedrochten, de feitenvrijgeboorten,
de behaagredelijken -

Wie in dit godvergeten trappenhuis
ziet het somber kankeren,
als de kleurstof, de zuurstof, de gespreksstof.

Dampig door nachtelijke uren
slijp je minuten maar
en tel je vingers.

Achter de beslagen dwaaldeuren
van onze achterlijke krochten,
onze aderlatende gewoonten,
sluipt de naarling van onze tijd.

Giftige schaduwbreinen in godvruchtige nageboorten des aanschijns,
kortsluitende weduwgestalten van wat ooit zon was,
driftkikkers die nooit prinsen zullen zijn.

Aanschouw de Toekomst.

The Future  translated by DeepL (not-registered, free version)

Where the desire machine wriggles
and life hits and breeds and fingers,
the days butterfly themselves alongside.

Woelgeest quietly approaches disaster territory
and though it's complicated,
we embrace.

Do we hear it,
do we still understand,
- no matter what,
we don't leave.

See us.
Take us.

It is that we live here
overlooking leaning roofs,
And it's not enough,
not here,
not now.

Celebrate the century of alley clowns,
the saw-through drones, the fact-freeborn,
the coquettish -

Those in this godforsaken stairwell
sees the bleak crooning,
as the dye, the oxygen, the conversational dust.

Vaporous by night hours
just grind your minutes
And count your fingers.

Behind the studded wanderings
of our backward caverns,
our veiny habits,
creeps the afterlife of our time.

Poisonous shadow-brains in godly afterbirths of the face,
short-circuiting widow's stems of what was once sunshine,
tantrums that will never be princes.

Behold the Future.

The Future  translated by Google Translate

Where the wishing machine wrings
and life hits and breeds and fingers,
the days float by.

Woelgeest is approaching a quiet disaster area
and though it is complicated,
we embrace.

Can we hear it
do we still understand
- anyway,
we don't leave.

See us.
Take us.

It's that we live here
with a view of crooked roofs,
And it's not enough
not here,
not now.

Celebrate the century of the alley clowns,
the sawing monstrosities, the factsfreebirths,
the pleasent -

Who in this godforsaken stairwell
sees the gloomy cancer,
as the dye, the oxygen, the talking point.

Damp through nighttime hours
grind your minutes
and count your fingers.

Behind the steamy false doors
from our backward vaults,
our blood-letting habits,
sneaks the villain of our time.

Poisonous shadow brains in godly afterbirths of the brow,
short-circuiting widowhoods of what was once sun,
temper frogs who will never be princes.

Behold the Future.

The Future  translated by me, DeepL, Google Translate and Kramers.

Where the wishing machine pinches
and life stirs and breeds and fingers,
the days butterfly themselves alongside.

Turbospirit approaching quiet disaster zone
and though it is complicated,
we embrace ourselves.

Do we hear this,
do we still understand,
- no matter what,
we do not leave.

See us.
Take us.

We live here
overlooking roofs askew,
and it's not enough,
not here,
not now.

Celebrate the century of the alley clowns,
the pestering monstrosities, the fact-freeborn,
the please-reasoners -

Who in this godforsaken stairwell
sees the cankerous bleak,
as the dye, the oxygen, the talking points.

Vaporous through nighttime hours
grind your minutes
and count your fingers.

Behind the steampunked wander doors
of our backward vaults,
our bloodletting habits,
creeps the wretch of our time.

Poisonous shadow brains in godly afterbirths of the brow,
short-circuit widow's figures of what was once sun,
temper frogs who will never be princes.

Behold the Future.

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