Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rutger Kopland

IN THE GARDEN

When that hole had been dug in the garden,
that cat there still next to it in the grass,
but time did not stop, I had to go on,

but I had not taken hold of that cat,
by the skin of its neck, as you have to,
if the cat doesn’t want to come or go,

and that cat, when I had taken hold of it
all the same, and still had not let go,
not filled in that hole and stamped it flat,

when the grass was not yet growing again
over that spot, as though I had never done
all that, but that cat, this far too unmoving

not wanting to, what could I do with that
hand of mine, that hole in the garden.

IN DE TUIN

IN DE TUIN

Toen dat gat in de tuin was gegraven,
die kat daar nog naast in het gras,
maar de tijd stond niet stil, ik moest

verder, maar ik die kat nog niet had
gegrepen, in haar nekvel, zoals moet
als een kat niet wil, komen of gaan,

en ik die kat, nadat ik haar dan toch
had gegrepen, nog niet had losgelaten,
het gat niet dichtgegooid, aangetrapt,

toen het gras nog niet weer groeide over
die plek, alsof ik dat allemaal nooit
had gedaan, maar die kat, dit veel te

stille niet willen, wat moest ik met die
hand van mij, met dat gat in de tuin.
Close

IN THE GARDEN

When that hole had been dug in the garden,
that cat there still next to it in the grass,
but time did not stop, I had to go on,

but I had not taken hold of that cat,
by the skin of its neck, as you have to,
if the cat doesn’t want to come or go,

and that cat, when I had taken hold of it
all the same, and still had not let go,
not filled in that hole and stamped it flat,

when the grass was not yet growing again
over that spot, as though I had never done
all that, but that cat, this far too unmoving

not wanting to, what could I do with that
hand of mine, that hole in the garden.

IN THE GARDEN

When that hole had been dug in the garden,
that cat there still next to it in the grass,
but time did not stop, I had to go on,

but I had not taken hold of that cat,
by the skin of its neck, as you have to,
if the cat doesn’t want to come or go,

and that cat, when I had taken hold of it
all the same, and still had not let go,
not filled in that hole and stamped it flat,

when the grass was not yet growing again
over that spot, as though I had never done
all that, but that cat, this far too unmoving

not wanting to, what could I do with that
hand of mine, that hole in the garden.
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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
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