May 24, 2021

'Round my Old Dwelling Poplars Stand by J.H. Leopold (The Netherlands, 1897)

'Round my old dwelling poplars stand

J.H. Leopold (The Netherlands, 1897)

translation: Ad Blankestijn


Around my old dwelling poplars stand,
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
a narrow lane
of soggy leaves, the fall is coming.

It's raining, raining as if you hear
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
and on and on
without a break, the wind becomes mute.

The house is empty and full of gloom
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
a whisper sounds
up in the attic, under the rafters.

There lives a man bent deeply low
"My love, my love, where have you gone"
with hollow eyes
who cannot find peace and rest.


Om mijn oud woonhuis peppels staan
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
een smalle laan
van natte blaren, het vallen komt.

Het regent, regent eender te hooren
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
en altijd door en
den treuren uit, de wind verstomt.

Het huis is hol en vol duisternis
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
gefluister is
boven op zolder, het dakgebint.

Er woont er een voorovergebogen
‘mijn lief, mijn lief, o waar gebleven’
met leege oogen
en die zijn vrede en rust niet vindt.


[J.H. Leopold]

Jan Hendrik Leopold (1865–1925) was a Dutch poet and classicist. Leopold was born at 's-Hertogenbosch. In early 1892, he moved to Rotterdam, where he became a teacher of classical languages at the Erasmian High School. The same year he received his doctorate in Leiden. He was friends with his student Ida Gerhardt, who as a poetess and teacher of classical languages followed in his footsteps.

Leopold's oeuvre is not very large and according to some rather hermetic in character. One of his most famous works is the poem "Cheops", which is also one of the most famous works of modern Dutch book printing. Leopold was also a translator of works by Sophocles. He translated portions of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam into Dutch.

I especially like the above poem, because it strikes me as a sort of 'ghost  story.' Leopold seems to be conjuring up a house with an apparition for us here - although I don't know if that is an officially recognized interpretation. Yet, especially in the second half of the poem, the ghost story elements seem clear enough: the whispers in the attic, the (cracking of) the roof trusses (rafters) and above all: the 'hollow eyes' and the announcement that the person who lives here can not find peace and rest. Do we have the tragic situation of a wandering ghost here? Is the situation of the poem that someone has entered his old (or former) home, and that he thinks he hears the words "My love, my love, where have you gone?" Or perhaps he speaks them in his own mind?

The quotation marks seem to indicate that the "I" implied in the first line hears a voice, either as a result of talking to itself, or as a manifestation of an inward "other". In the second couplet, it is the murmur of the rain in which he hears what controls his thoughts. In the third couplet the whispering in the attic may be caused by "another" presence - a ghost?

All in all, both possibilities remain open: either there is a second - shadowy - character present in the poem, or this second character is an aspect of the grief-torn interior of the poet. The second character haunts the spirit of the first (the poet), as the first visits the old dwelling of both of them.  One could almost say: the dead seeks the living, the living "haunts" the dead. 
 
By the way, one could also think of the ghost of Catherine Earnshaw at the beginning of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. (The above thoughts about the poem were inspired by Wiel Kusters, "Aantekeningen over Leopold" in De Gids (https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/_gid001198201_01/_gid001198201_01_0064.php).
 
Another situational reading which is purely my own is that the poet/narrator has killed his beloved and now - full of guilt and remorse - returns to their former dwelling where the murder has taken place - only to be greeted by her ghost...
 
Besides the above poem, the following short one by Leopold is also famous in the Netherlands:
 
Oh, when dead, when dead I will be
then come and whisper, whisper something sweet
my pale eyes I will lift
and I will not be surprised.

And I will not be surprised;
in this love, death will be
only a sleeping, sleeping assured
a waiting for you, a waiting.


O, als ik dood zal, dood zal zijn
kom dan en fluister, fluister iets liefs
mijn bleeke oogen zal ik opslaan
en ik zal niet verwonderd zijn.

En ik zal niet verwonderd zijn;
in deze liefde zal de dood
alleen een slapen, slapen gerust
een wachten op u, een wachten zijn.

 
Perhaps we are allowed to connect this to the first poem?

Photos:
Leopold: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Lyric Poetry Around the World Index