Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Sargon Boulus

HOW EASTERN SINGING WAS BORN

Prophet

I brace myself
Turn my face to flashes of lightning
Rave and wait until
The waves leave me
Chained to a rock
On an unknown coast

Book

Open the Book of Time
With trembling fingers and read
This is your life, pegged to time
With the short hair. Like a woman
It wants to disclose
Each and every secret
To you

God

God wanted
To be clear to the world:
Mankind is pre-ordained to wander
In dark, depressing alleys
For ever.

Lute

It happened
That one of them gave
This lute and taught me to sing
With a cracked voice

HOE IS HET OOSTERSE LIED ONTSTAAN

Profeet

Ik verman me.
Het gezicht naar de bliksem gekeerd
raas ik tot de golf mij
op een onbekende kust
aan een rots geketend
achterlaat.

Boek

Open het boek van de tijd
met trillende vingers en lees,
dat is je leven, met de haren vastgepind
aan de tijd. Als een vrouw
wil hij jou
alle geheimen
vertellen

God

God wilde
dat het de wereld duidelijk werd:
tot in de eeuwigheid
moet de mens
in duistere, nare stegen dwalen

Luit

Toen gebeurde het
dat iemand mij
deze luit gaf en mij leerde zingen

Close

HOW EASTERN SINGING WAS BORN

Prophet

I brace myself
Turn my face to flashes of lightning
Rave and wait until
The waves leave me
Chained to a rock
On an unknown coast

Book

Open the Book of Time
With trembling fingers and read
This is your life, pegged to time
With the short hair. Like a woman
It wants to disclose
Each and every secret
To you

God

God wanted
To be clear to the world:
Mankind is pre-ordained to wander
In dark, depressing alleys
For ever.

Lute

It happened
That one of them gave
This lute and taught me to sing
With a cracked voice

HOW EASTERN SINGING WAS BORN

Prophet

I brace myself
Turn my face to flashes of lightning
Rave and wait until
The waves leave me
Chained to a rock
On an unknown coast

Book

Open the Book of Time
With trembling fingers and read
This is your life, pegged to time
With the short hair. Like a woman
It wants to disclose
Each and every secret
To you

God

God wanted
To be clear to the world:
Mankind is pre-ordained to wander
In dark, depressing alleys
For ever.

Lute

It happened
That one of them gave
This lute and taught me to sing
With a cracked voice
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère