#folk #dutch #nederlands

First, a thank you to my friend Litheruh, for her help with some of the grammar. Please do not blame her for mistakes here - I went my own direction on occasion regardless of some suggestions otherwise!

Second, this is me writing in Dutch, not translating - a language in which I have a very small but growing vocabulary, and a proficiency in pronunciation that needs plenty of work.

Third, why in the world did I pick a word to rhyme with - terrein - that is so hard for me to pronounce?!

Fourth, by putting this on here, I know I am welcoming some (gentle, please?) criticism of my Dutch grammar and pronunciation in the song. I can try to fit changes in where rhyme and scansion can be made to behave.

Fifth, please do not dump this into Google Translate. I tried hard to not do that myself - last thing I want is that beast munching up my work and feeding it to LLMs (that will happen with web-crawling, I know, but no need to hasten the process). I've put my own translation in English after the Dutch.

A bit of a #communist anthem here, but with a #flute bridge rather than a fiery, take-it-all-away-from-them bridge. Perhaps I'll update it when I'm prepared to write more in Dutch.

In the Netherlands, for those who don't know, there are beautiful little stone signs saying 'Eigen Terrein' in various places to denote private property. They are actually quite lovely - this is a country that invests in durable, sustainable, and beautiful infrastructure - but they also remind me that, like in all countries, the rich have concentrated so much wealth and land, and feel entitled to the privilege.

Seemed like a song for my #strumstick #dulcimer somehow.

Eigen Terrein Jemma Kline

Dutch: (English translation later - scroll down)

Ik loop langs de straat naast de bloemen, In een buurt met gebouwen zo fijn, Deze stad werd gemaakt door alle mensen, Maar de tuinen zeggen ‘eigen terrein.

Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Wanneer werd het niet ons gebied? Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Oh wat was de juist hoeveelheid?

Er zijn hier kanalen en bomen, Overal om een mooi, groot plein, Gemaakt door de werknemers samen, Maar de huizen zeggen ‘eigen terrein’.

Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Wanneer werd het niet ons gebied? Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Oh wat was de juist hoeveelheid?

(flute bridge)

Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Wanneer werd het niet ons gebied? Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Oh wat was de juist hoeveelheid?

Zo loop langs de straat naast de bloemen, En speel in de tuinen zo fijn, Laat niemand hier zonder een huis standen En vergeet nu het ‘eigen terrein.’

Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Wanneer werd het niet ons gebied? Eigen terrein, eigen terrein, Oh wat was de juist hoeveelheid?

English:

I walk along the street near the flowers, In a neighborhood with buildings so fine. This city was made by all the people, But the yards say ‘Private Property.’

Private property, private property, When did it become not our land? Private property, private property, Oh what was the true cost?

Here there are canals and trees, All around a beautiful, large square. Made by the workers together, But the houses say ‘Private Property.’

Private property, private property, When did it become not our land? Private property, private property, Oh what was the true cost?

(flute bridge)

Private property, private property, When did it become not our land? Private property, private property, Oh what was the true cost?

So walk along the street near the flowers, And play in the yards so fine. Let no one here be without a home, And forget now the “Private Property.’

Private property, private property, When did it become not our land? Private property, private property, Oh what was the true cost?