Dit fers dan mar
Dyn heit en mem ferneuke dy.
Grif net mei sin, mar ’t is al sa.
Krijst harren fouten fan se mei
Plus foar dysels der wat op ta.
Ach, ienris binne sy ek naaid,
Troch healegearen, kliemsk en kâld,
Dy’t (huodsjes op) âldmoadrich klaaid
Elkoar soms griepen by de strôt.
De minske jout misêre troch.
It rint skean del as in talúd.
Naai út sa gau ast kinst en sjoch
Fan eigen bern ôf ta beslút.
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Ut High Windows, 1974. YouTube: Henrikson, ‘This Be The Verse’, 2021.