Perhaps the poems,
Which I wrote in your language
Will reach you in later days,
And if they did, I would appreciate it.
And if you read them you don’t have to think,
They are no longer relevant,
Therefore you do not need to bother with them,
Therefore get rid of them, really quick.
Because the reading certainly won’t be
Entertaining for some people.
They see that one sits
in judgement of their former stupidity,
The stupidity of bygone times,
Since it is cruelly written down here,
Which they have atoned for and regretted
Already enough, according to their feelings.
So grievously that one would like to forget
And remembering would cause pain,
Therefore this publication may seem to be a dreadful
Excavation of old suffering.
Finally, you consider yourself free
From the shadows of the past.
And you don’t think that the same pain,
The same suffering is still threatening you.
But if one would let you forget
Your old mistakes again,
Then a new puppeteer will lead you
To a new slaughter-fest.
For you are so easily ensnared,
When you have recovered from war.
Therefore I would like to warn you,
Not to become spoofed again.
For the second time you have sunk,
In exactly the same hole,
And if someone makes you drunk again,
You can count on it, it will happen again.
Unlike other poets,
Who give you a high,
I want you to sober up from the frenzy,
Therefore please don’t feel harmed!
And if my curtain lecture is effective,
If you recognise old mistakes,
Then I’ll feel richly compensated
And the pleasure will be mine.
Post-Editing: Inge Folkers
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