Traka pa konné gouvené/ Trouble Ain't Know How to Steer

Traka pa konné gouvèné / Trouble Ain’t Know How to Steer

A poem in Kouri-Vini from the new Baton Rouge Poet Laureate Jonathan Mayers

Trwa-kar mérikin, li sé linmé

Kolonizé tou partou lil

Kawènn épi kan li li di wi

Li linm li linm Fran, kakofoni

Si yé donn li yê bonn lavi

Ga – çon sèt tèt fanflish, li swèt

Fé særtin nouzòt gin ariyin

Si fin-la sé rivé byinto

Li sé di nou trouvé nô ké

Pi li sé ri apré nô parin

Ki çé ki di yé yé linm kiltir

Lalwizyàn, li byin inondé

Avèk moun k’ap fé pa li plézi

Mé yé konné ayoù vouzòt sòr

Traka pa konné gouvèné

In English

‘Merican Virginia flower would love

To colonize all around Isle

Turtle and then when it says yes, yes

It loves it loves Fran, cacophony

If they give it their rich breath

Look–seven head bauble, baw wishing

To make certain we ain’t got a thing

If the end were comin’ soon

He’d tell us “Watch your backends,”

While he laughs about our parrains

Who says they love this culture

Louisiane, it’s well full up

Wit’ people disrespectin’ its cheer

But they know exactly where you from

Trouble ain’t know how to steer

Published in Kouri-Vini/Louisiana Creole on Le Bourdon de la Louisiane

In July, Mayor-President Sharon Weston Broome announced the appointment of Baton Rouge’s third Poet Laureate: the visual artist, writer, and language activist Jonathan Mayers, sometimes known as “rat de bois farouche” or “feral opossum”. Previously featured in our pages for his vivid, mythological illustrations of Louisiana’s environmental travails, Mayers’ artistic practice is a multi-facted one, centered around a reclamation of what he calls authenticité Louisiana.

Language preservation is at the heart of this work, in which Mayers intentionally utilizes and shares the endangered Louisiana Creole language of Kouri-Vini, which is today spoken by fewer than ten thousand people.

In his new role as the Baton Rouge Poet Laureate, Mayers said that a major component of his programming will be focused on sharing this dying language with new audiences. “A lot of the people I’ll be working with don’t know or even realize that their families, their ancestors, spoke this language,” he said. “That’s going to be an important aspect, having people learn a little more about Kouri-Vini and how they can be a part of rebuilding the language into our vocabulary.” Mayers said that he has plans to invite aspiring writers to submit their own poetry for translation. “Having your work translated into another language,” he said, “can build rapport, community, and a new understanding of one’s culture.”

Part of Mayers’ existing practice is to simply use the language in day to day life. It’s how he answers the phone, how he bids adieu. He hopes to use this new platform to spread that sentiment even further, he said, teaching people simple phrases they can use in their regular conversations, including:

Komen to yê? How are you?

Mo byin, mèsi! I’m well thanks!

Maringwin pèddi sô tem kan li piké kaïman. The mosquito wastes his time trying to bite the alligator.

And finally: “Mo linm twa.” “I love you.” “Because,” said Mayers, “I think people need to hear more of that anyway.”

—Jordan LaHaye Fontenot

jonathanmayers.com