Poem
Ruth Lasters
Moving on
If moving on seems impossible, then choose one singlemoving on, one splendidly
stubborn deed, if need be: hearing fizzy water every midnight
exploding bubbles, a sort of star-listening
instead of star-gazing. If moving on is impossible,
then choose one journey backward to a moment when
all the ‘one days’ you were promised suddenly became now,
perhaps to that morning when ambition was just
growing with you like grey mould
through a loaf.
© Translation: 2009, Paul Vincent, in collaboration with the author
Verder
Verder
Als verdergaan onmogelijk lijkt, kies dan één enkelverdergaan, één heerlijke
hardnekkigheid, desnoods om drie uur elke nacht spuitwater
horen stukknappende bellen, een soort sterrenluisteren
in plaats van sterrenkijken. Als verdergaan onmogelijk
is, kies dan één teruggaan naar een toen dat alle ooits
die je beloofd waren plots nu werden, misschien wel naar
die ochtend dat ambitie och, wat willen groeien met
je was als grauwe schimmel door een
brood.
© 2007, Ruth Lasters
From: Vouwplannen
Publisher: Meulenhoff/Manteau, Antwerp
From: Vouwplannen
Publisher: Meulenhoff/Manteau, Antwerp
Poems
Poems of Ruth Lasters
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Moving on
If moving on seems impossible, then choose one singlemoving on, one splendidly
stubborn deed, if need be: hearing fizzy water every midnight
exploding bubbles, a sort of star-listening
instead of star-gazing. If moving on is impossible,
then choose one journey backward to a moment when
all the ‘one days’ you were promised suddenly became now,
perhaps to that morning when ambition was just
growing with you like grey mould
through a loaf.
© 2009, Paul Vincent, in collaboration with the author
From: Vouwplannen
From: Vouwplannen
Moving on
If moving on seems impossible, then choose one singlemoving on, one splendidly
stubborn deed, if need be: hearing fizzy water every midnight
exploding bubbles, a sort of star-listening
instead of star-gazing. If moving on is impossible,
then choose one journey backward to a moment when
all the ‘one days’ you were promised suddenly became now,
perhaps to that morning when ambition was just
growing with you like grey mould
through a loaf.
© 2009, Paul Vincent, in collaboration with the author
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