Poem
Henrik Nordbrandt
AFTER A BAD DREAM
When I woke, the lid sat in its placeon the big black kettle
and as for the cannibals
only an echo
of their exotic names remained.
The bookmark stuck out of the book on the nightstand
in exactly the right place
and when I put my feet out of the bed
I saw that the laces
were correctly in my shoes.
And my socks lay right beside them.
There was no crocodile under the bed
and the spider
that sat in waiting behind the door
had gone its way.
My head and my arms
were not placed
each in a separate plastic bag.
They were firmly attached to my body.
I could move myself without bleeding.
I didn’t even have
a stomach ache.
On the kitchen counter there was a coffee maker
a normal coffee maker
in morning light that seeped
in between the flowered curtains.
They needed to be washed
It looked
to be the middle of April.
While the water boiled
the house sounded so empty.
All the ones I had loved
were long dead.
© Translation: 2009, Thom Satterlee
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2009
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2009
NA EEN BOZE DROOM
Toen ik wakker werd, zat het deksel op zijn plaatsvan de grote, zwarte pan
en van de kannibalen
restte slechts een echo
van hun exotische namen.
De boekenlegger stak uit het boek op het nachtkastje
op de juiste plaats
en toen ik mijn voeten buiten het bed uitstak
zag ik dat mijn veters
correct in mijn schoenen zaten.
En de sokken lagen er precies naast.
Er zat geen krokodil onder het bed
en de spin
die achter de deur op de loer had gelegen
was weggegaan.
Mijn hoofd en mijn armen
zaten niet in een
zwarte plastic zak.
Ze zaten echt goed vast aan mijn lichaam.
Ik kon me bewegen zonder te bloeden.
Ik had niet eens
pijn in mijn buik.
Op het aanrecht stond een koffiezetapparaat
een gewoon koffiezetapparaat
in het licht van de voormiddag dat naar binnen sijpelde
door de gebloemde gordijnen.
Die moesten nodig gewassen worden.
Het zag er naar uit
dat het midden april was.
Toen het water kookte
klonk het huis zo leeg.
Iedereen van wie ik had gehouden
was allang dood.
© Vertaling: 2009, Annelies van Hees
EFTER EN OND DRØM
Da jeg vågnede, sad låget på sin pladspå den store, sorte gryde
og af kannibalerne
var der kun et ekko
af deres eksotiske navne tilbage.
Bogmærket stak ud af bogen på natbordet
på det helt rigtige sted
og da jeg stak fødderne ud af sengen
så jeg, at mine snørebånd
sad korrekt i skoene.
Og sokkerne lå lige ved siden af.
Der var ingen krokodille under sengen
og edderkoppen
der havde siddet på lur bag døren
var gået sin vej.
Mit hoved og mine arme
var ikke anbragt
i hver deres
sorte plasticpose.
De sad rigtig godt fast til kroppen.
Jeg kunne bevæge mig uden at bløde.
Jeg havde ikke engang
ondt i maven.
På køkkenbordet stod der en kaffemaskine
en almindelig kaffemaskine
i formiddagslyset, som sivede ind
gennem de blomstrede gardiner.
De trængte til at blive vasket.
Det så ud
til at være midt i april.
Da vandet kogte
lød huset så tomt.
Alle dem, jeg havde elsket
var forlængst døde.
© 2004, Henrik Nordbrandt
From: Pjaltefisk
Publisher: Gyldendal, Copenhagen
From: Pjaltefisk
Publisher: Gyldendal, Copenhagen
Poems
Poems of Henrik Nordbrandt
Close
AFTER A BAD DREAM
When I woke, the lid sat in its placeon the big black kettle
and as for the cannibals
only an echo
of their exotic names remained.
The bookmark stuck out of the book on the nightstand
in exactly the right place
and when I put my feet out of the bed
I saw that the laces
were correctly in my shoes.
And my socks lay right beside them.
There was no crocodile under the bed
and the spider
that sat in waiting behind the door
had gone its way.
My head and my arms
were not placed
each in a separate plastic bag.
They were firmly attached to my body.
I could move myself without bleeding.
I didn’t even have
a stomach ache.
On the kitchen counter there was a coffee maker
a normal coffee maker
in morning light that seeped
in between the flowered curtains.
They needed to be washed
It looked
to be the middle of April.
While the water boiled
the house sounded so empty.
All the ones I had loved
were long dead.
© 2009, Thom Satterlee
From: Pjaltefisk
Publisher: 2009, First published on PIW, Copenhagen
From: Pjaltefisk
Publisher: 2009, First published on PIW, Copenhagen
AFTER A BAD DREAM
When I woke, the lid sat in its placeon the big black kettle
and as for the cannibals
only an echo
of their exotic names remained.
The bookmark stuck out of the book on the nightstand
in exactly the right place
and when I put my feet out of the bed
I saw that the laces
were correctly in my shoes.
And my socks lay right beside them.
There was no crocodile under the bed
and the spider
that sat in waiting behind the door
had gone its way.
My head and my arms
were not placed
each in a separate plastic bag.
They were firmly attached to my body.
I could move myself without bleeding.
I didn’t even have
a stomach ache.
On the kitchen counter there was a coffee maker
a normal coffee maker
in morning light that seeped
in between the flowered curtains.
They needed to be washed
It looked
to be the middle of April.
While the water boiled
the house sounded so empty.
All the ones I had loved
were long dead.
© 2009, Thom Satterlee
Publisher: 2009, First published on PIW,
Publisher: 2009, First published on PIW,
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