Poem
Joke van Leeuwen
LONELY FUNERAL
The man of ash says, take my urnby my waist, that’s right, like that
don’t scatter me here on the prescribed
lawn, on last year’s ashes. Scatter me
as a trail of crumbs where people hurry
and worry that this or that needs doing.
Lay my shrunken brain, my arthritic feet
under the rail of the fly-over
(a heap of no account, but still a heap)
so that as troubling dust I’ll still
blow somewhere on speeding cars.
Still light. Still there.
© Translation: 2012, David Colmer
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2012
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2012
EENZAME UITVAART
EENZAME UITVAART
De man van as zegt: neem mijn urnbij mijn middel vast, ja zo, verstrooi mij
niet hier op het voorgeschreven gras, op
ander as van vorig jaar. Verstrooi mij als
een kruimelspoor, daar waar men voort-
stapt en iets meent te moeten. Leg mijn
verkleinde brein, mijn reumavoeten
onder de leuning van het viaduct
(bergje van niks, maar wel een bergje)
dan waai ik zelf als storend stof
op snelle auto’s ergens heen.
Toch licht. Toch tegenwoordig.
© 2012, Joke van Leeuwen
From: Half in de zee
Publisher: Poetry International/Querido, Rotterdam/Amsterdam
From: Half in de zee
Publisher: Poetry International/Querido, Rotterdam/Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Joke van Leeuwen
Close
LONELY FUNERAL
The man of ash says, take my urnby my waist, that’s right, like that
don’t scatter me here on the prescribed
lawn, on last year’s ashes. Scatter me
as a trail of crumbs where people hurry
and worry that this or that needs doing.
Lay my shrunken brain, my arthritic feet
under the rail of the fly-over
(a heap of no account, but still a heap)
so that as troubling dust I’ll still
blow somewhere on speeding cars.
Still light. Still there.
© 2012, David Colmer
From: Half in de zee
Publisher: 2012, First published on PIW, Rotterdam/Amsterdam
From: Half in de zee
Publisher: 2012, First published on PIW, Rotterdam/Amsterdam
LONELY FUNERAL
The man of ash says, take my urnby my waist, that’s right, like that
don’t scatter me here on the prescribed
lawn, on last year’s ashes. Scatter me
as a trail of crumbs where people hurry
and worry that this or that needs doing.
Lay my shrunken brain, my arthritic feet
under the rail of the fly-over
(a heap of no account, but still a heap)
so that as troubling dust I’ll still
blow somewhere on speeding cars.
Still light. Still there.
© 2012, David Colmer
Publisher: 2012, First published on PIW,
Publisher: 2012, First published on PIW,
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère