Poem
Jan Baeke
TO HAVE THAT
So beautiful, so useful, so unrelentingthis moon, while you are sitting next to me
while flowers bounce off you
and none of my words or glances
succeed in coming between
your telephone calls.
You, of course, have all that wavy hair
and that magazine look.
I should have the moon
whispers the captivated body inside me
that’s testing the chair
as if someone is coming to get this body.
There, a knife is glinting.
There, the limbs I am about to lose.
What the hell is going on here
I shout
while the nurse
pin-points the needle on my upper arm.
© Translation: 2005, Willem Groenewegen
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: Snail Press, Cape Town, 2005
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: Snail Press, Cape Town, 2005
DAT TE HEBBEN
DAT TE HEBBEN
Zo mooi, zo bruikbaar, zo onverbiddelijkdeze maan, nu jij naast mij zit
nu bloemen op jou afketsen
en geen van mijn woorden of blikken
zich tussen jouw telefoongesprekken
weet te dringen.
Jij hebt immers al die golvende haren
en die tijdschriftenblik.
Ik zou de maan moeten hebben
fluistert in mij het ingenomen lichaam
dat de stoel test
alsof iemand dit lichaam komt halen.
Daar glinstert het mes.
Daar de ledematen die mij weldra ontvallen.
Wat is hier in godsnaam aan de hand
roep ik
terwijl de verpleegster
de naald op mijn bovenarm scherp stelt.
© 2004, Jan Baeke
From: Iedereen is er
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
From: Iedereen is er
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Jan Baeke
Close
TO HAVE THAT
So beautiful, so useful, so unrelentingthis moon, while you are sitting next to me
while flowers bounce off you
and none of my words or glances
succeed in coming between
your telephone calls.
You, of course, have all that wavy hair
and that magazine look.
I should have the moon
whispers the captivated body inside me
that’s testing the chair
as if someone is coming to get this body.
There, a knife is glinting.
There, the limbs I am about to lose.
What the hell is going on here
I shout
while the nurse
pin-points the needle on my upper arm.
© 2005, Willem Groenewegen
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: 2005, Snail Press, Cape Town
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: 2005, Snail Press, Cape Town
TO HAVE THAT
So beautiful, so useful, so unrelentingthis moon, while you are sitting next to me
while flowers bounce off you
and none of my words or glances
succeed in coming between
your telephone calls.
You, of course, have all that wavy hair
and that magazine look.
I should have the moon
whispers the captivated body inside me
that’s testing the chair
as if someone is coming to get this body.
There, a knife is glinting.
There, the limbs I am about to lose.
What the hell is going on here
I shout
while the nurse
pin-points the needle on my upper arm.
© 2005, Willem Groenewegen
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: 2005, Snail Press, Cape Town
From: Carapace: Dutch Edition, no.53
Publisher: 2005, Snail Press, Cape Town
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