Udo Hintze
Texas. USA
How lucky we are we speak English.
The World uses English like fish use water. It is the language of Hollywood, Wall Street, The United Nations and the Olympics;
It is England’s most reliable export.
From the shores of a tiny island in the North Sea,
English is a seed that has grown into a tree and prospered, And covered the world,
Feeding the nations of the world,
And from that single tree, all the birds of the world nest. English spreads forth its wings
Like a mighty eagle,
Casting a long shadow on the landscape.
Wherever this imperial language has landed, It has absorbed and been absorbed
Like a black hole,
But not disappearing into oblivion But existing in parallel universes, Amongst the peoples of the globe;
Aboriginals, Africans, Asians and Native Americans, Creating a rainbow of Englishes,
Half-brothers and sisters stretching around the world.
And although English is an Old World resident It masquerades with New World clothing.
English then becomes a second language.
For example, in Massachusetts, the English there
Do not say, “Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg” They just call it Lake Webster.
English is a juggernaut gathering speed with every step. English has carved out routes in the mountains, Mapped out paths in desert,
And hacked a way through the jungles of the world. Going back is like digging into the layers of Time itself, Uncovering ancient civilizations
And there we see the layers of meaning,
The strata of connotations, and the formation of lexicons, Built upon the backs
Of words, of words, of words From other languages (stanza continued)
Like Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit Amongst the pantheon of lesser gods
Like French, German, Spanish, and Arabic
So “true” English is only is spoken in drips and dribs, But at least we can be thankful to the Dutch,
That our Boss is not our Master.
And the English Lion has no master Because it never rests.
Indeed, it surrounds and enfolds its prey at all times And all places.
For example, in the 19th century A Bengali playwright once said: “I like to write a satire…
I like to show the creatures of my race, Who go to England
And forget their traditions,
And come back dressed like foreigners… I like to hold them up to ridicule
Their clothes, Their habits,
And all their tomfoolery.”
English the kind of creature Darwin would have appreciated, A kind of super-organism,
Self-aware and constantly evolving, Evolving like the former red parts Of the British Empire as depicted On old Imperial dominion maps.
England is a noun, it is a place on the map. But English is a noun and an adjective, too. So it is the entire map, too.
It is the painter and painting merging, Becoming one,
And not just the red parts,
Stained with the blood of violence and war, But with life-blood,
Flowing into the mother’s womb, Creating new life!
So do not fool yourself
By placing blame of this global Tsunami on the British.
Just ask around and see for yourself, (stanza continued)
That English is our commonwealth, And it was not a British Empire But an English one.