Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Anna Enquist

SCHUBERT

What did we do when she was gone
for good? Throats clamped shut,
legs of clay, no air,

no air to be had. We slept poorly
and every word became a wound.
We crept around on unsure feet.

Wanting darkness, but not
a chance of salvation. Schubert
is on the music stand. Your hand

picks up the bow. Rosined white,
it creaks across the string. Lips sealed,
you start to search for her.

SCHUBERT

SCHUBERT

Wat deden wij toen zij voorgoed
was verdwenen? Gesloten strot,
klei in de benen, geen lucht,

nergens lucht. We sliepen slecht
en elk woord werd een wond.
We slopen rond op onvaste voeten.

Liever weggevaagd, maar redding
is niet aan de orde. Schubert
staat op de standaard. Je hand

pakt de strijkstok. Wit geharst
knarst hij over de snaar. Zwijgend
begin je de zoektocht naar haar.
Close

SCHUBERT

What did we do when she was gone
for good? Throats clamped shut,
legs of clay, no air,

no air to be had. We slept poorly
and every word became a wound.
We crept around on unsure feet.

Wanting darkness, but not
a chance of salvation. Schubert
is on the music stand. Your hand

picks up the bow. Rosined white,
it creaks across the string. Lips sealed,
you start to search for her.

SCHUBERT

What did we do when she was gone
for good? Throats clamped shut,
legs of clay, no air,

no air to be had. We slept poorly
and every word became a wound.
We crept around on unsure feet.

Wanting darkness, but not
a chance of salvation. Schubert
is on the music stand. Your hand

picks up the bow. Rosined white,
it creaks across the string. Lips sealed,
you start to search for her.
Sponsors
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
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VDM
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