Poem
George Szirtes
Arrival
AANKOMST
Tenslotte kwamen we aan bij de stad der stilte,enorm, met hoge muren, haar woeste stoplichten
versprongen in paniek, straten waren bedekt
met dikke dekens. Het was een plek zonder deuren, een reeks
bewegende monden.
Hun ogen spraken uiteraard boekdelen,
dikke naslagwerken. Er was weinig licht om te lezen.
Hun witte handschoenen fladderden voor hen
met grotesk dansende vingers.
Er stond geschreven dat dit alles zo moest zijn.
Hun denk-misdaden, hand-misdaden, hart-misdaden
stonden in lange lijsten genoteerd.
Agenten trokken gezichten of wezen naar plakkaten.
De magistraten sliepen in het park.
NIET STOREN, zeiden de borden.
GEEN LASTIGE VRAGEN STELLEN.
De rest ging door met voeden en opvoeden.
Ze plantten tongen op de begraafplaats,
weelderige struiken van stilte.
© Vertaling: 2009, Rob Schouten
Arrival
Finally we arrived at the city of silence,enormous, high-walled, its furious traffic lights
signalling in panic. The streets were covered over
in thick rugs. It was a place without doors, a series
of moving mouths.
Their eyes, of course, spoke volumes,
vast encyclopaedias. There was little light reading.
Their white gloves fluttered before them
with grotesquely dancing fingers.
It was written that all this should be as it was.
Their thought-crimes, hand-crimes, and heart-crimes
were listed in long numbered chapters.
Policemen pulled faces or pointed at notices.
The civic authorities were sleeping in the park.
DO NOT DISTURB, said the signs.
ASK NO AWKWARD QUESTIONS.
The rest went on feeding and breeding.
They were planting tongues in the cemetery,
thick flowering shrubs of silence.
© 2004, George Szirtes
From: Reel
Publisher: Bloodaxe, Tarset
From: Reel
Publisher: Bloodaxe, Tarset
George Szirtes
(Hungary, 1948)
George Szirtes was born in Hungary in 1948, but fled during the Hungarian Uprising of 1956 to England, where he studied at the art academies of London and Leeds before establishing himself as a painter. In addition, he wrote poetry. His first collection The Slant Door, written in his adopted mother tongue, appeared in 1979.
Poems
Poems of George Szirtes
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Arrival
Finally we arrived at the city of silence,enormous, high-walled, its furious traffic lights
signalling in panic. The streets were covered over
in thick rugs. It was a place without doors, a series
of moving mouths.
Their eyes, of course, spoke volumes,
vast encyclopaedias. There was little light reading.
Their white gloves fluttered before them
with grotesquely dancing fingers.
It was written that all this should be as it was.
Their thought-crimes, hand-crimes, and heart-crimes
were listed in long numbered chapters.
Policemen pulled faces or pointed at notices.
The civic authorities were sleeping in the park.
DO NOT DISTURB, said the signs.
ASK NO AWKWARD QUESTIONS.
The rest went on feeding and breeding.
They were planting tongues in the cemetery,
thick flowering shrubs of silence.
From: Reel
Arrival
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