Versindaba » Jan F E Celliers
Philip de Vos. Moaner Lisa
As daar een woord is wat my irriteer is dit die Engelse woord SMILE. En hier praat ek uit ’n fotograaf se oogpunt. Wie op aarde dink hy gaan beter lyk net omdat hy tande wys? In Prehistoriese tye was dit in elk geval ’n teken van aggressie. En nie dat ons veel verder as destyds gevorder het as ek ons daaglikse koerante lees nie.
Om te glimlag is g’n kuns nie.
Ek ken ’n sangeres – dis altyd tande-wys, maar kyk bietjie na daai oë – dit staan stokstyf van die gebrek aan emosie. En daar is juis ook oor Nancy Reagan gesê: Her smile is a study in frozen insincerity.
Nee, ek hou van foto’s van mense wat smeul. Waar op aarde kry mens ’n foto van ’n glimlaggende James Dean of Marlon Brando of Greta Garbo?
Smile jy, verdwyn alle karakter. Kyk maar net ’n bietjie na die sosiale kolomme in die plaaslike koerant. Hulle lyk almal so dolgelukkig. Meanwhile, back at the ranch …
En wat van foto’s van ons vroeë Afrikaanse digters?
Eugène Marais lyk soos Max Collie wat jou wil hipnotiseer met daardie slang-oë van hom terwyl Jan F. E. Celliers daarenteen lyk soos iemand wat ek graag as oupa sou wou hê.
Dan is daar natuurlik dié wat wegkyk van die kamera asof hulle diep, diep woorde uitdink: A.G. Visser en Boerneef.
En D.J. Opperman. Met watter foto sou hy wou hê, moet ons hom onthou?
En die jonge Loftus Marais? Moet hy smile of smeul?
Of is ’n upside-down smile soos dié van Joan Hambidge miskien ’n beter opsie?
Toe ek vandag weer in my bokse rondkrap, ontdek ek ’n Engelse versie wat ek alreeds in 1985 geskryf het, pas ’n jaar nadat my eerste Afrikaanse versies gepubliseer is. En dit was juis deur Roald Dahl se Revolting Rhymes dat hierdie tipe versie geïnspireer is. En ek plaas die versie oor ’n vroumens wat agtergekom het om te smile is beter vir haar image, presies soos dit destyds geskryf is, warts and all:
Four centuries or so ago
there lived a maid in Florence.
Her conduct filled the Florentines
with loathing and abhorrence.
Her manners were atrocious.
Her manners were quite vile.
She moaned and scowled
and NEVER gave a smile.
She had a double-decker name:
they called her Moaner-Lisa.
To tell the truth – this was a name
that didn’t really please her.
All that anybody saw,
was just her stern exterior.
And no-one in that city knew
that Moaner felt inferior.
Moaner-Lisa had a dream –
she wished that she had fame.
Then everybody in this world
would talk about her name.
(It really is a pity
how parents sometimes name us.
And with a name like Moaner –
could any girl get famous?)
She was a simple-minded girl
who didn’t want prosperity.
was her wish for some posterity
Then she had a bright idea:
I’ll have my picture painted
by Signor L. da Vinci.
With fame I’ll get acquainted!”
(She didn’t look quite half as good
as Marilyn or Bardot
Yet off she marched with angry scowl
to Artist Leonardo.)
He started in the morning,
and painted her all night
but still poor Moaner Lisa
looked an awful, sorry sight.
The reason was most surely
that nasty horrid scowl
that made her look exactly
like a mean old hooty-owl.
“Miss Moaner,” said Da Vinci then,
“Methinks that you should smile.
Otherwise some gentle folk
would surely run a mile!”
“Heigh ho! Hey nonny no!”
said Moaner with a frown.
“I do not want a grinning face
like joker, fool or clown!”
“Prithee, dearest maiden fair,
Stretch those lovely lips of yours,
and then you can say: Cheese!”
“No!” screamed Moaner. “I refuse!
and find another artist then
called Michael Angelo.
He’ll paint me on a ceiling
He’ll paint my scowl
with reverence and feelingl”
Poor Signor L. da Vinci
felt a little bit upset.
He had a funny feeling
that he’d make her famous yet.
Then he thought he’d tickle her
until she screamed and laughed.
But, with a frown, Miss Moaner said:
“Da Vinci! Are you daft?”
So he stood upon his head
and swung from ev’ry rafter.
Hoping that she would collapse
with giggles and with laughter.
He wore a funny face and hat.
He wore an eiderdown.
But all that he could notice,
was old Moaner-Lisa’s frown.
He told her funny stories.
He told her ev’ry joke.
But not one teeny-weeny smile
did any joke evoke.
Then poor old Leonardo thought:
And now for something worse.
So he recited on the spot
four simple lines of verse:
“Queen Daisy had a daughter.
Queen Daisy had two sons.
Queen Daisy had some apricots.
And then she had t he runs.”
that Nonsense Verse
was really not her style
But then a great big miracle!
Miss Moaner gave a SMILE.
That smile made her so famous.
and took her to the Louvre,
because of good Queen Daisy
whose bowels once did move.
geskryf: 10 – 11 December 1985
En nou moet onse digters maar self besluit, want soos Shakespeare amper gesê het:
Tags: D J Opperman, Eugene Marais, Jan F E Celliers, Joan Hambidge, Loftus Marais
Posted in Binneblik, Philip de Vos | 10 Kommentare »