Poem
Nico Bleutge
afternoon, shifting view
above the line of the mole. single points, the waterglimmers up yellow when the sun whispers through the
clouds, the hand curves round to catch the light
on the iris. into the picture eyelashes hang
the guide-rail of the lid, on which the sails slide
out to sea, gills, and the shore moves along
towards the harbour. the hair is following the wind
which goes back a long way, on the skin of the houses
cartilage is protruding and the shutters
are gasping for air. as though all hinged on the rhythm
of the drops which are beating against the stone stairs
but the pressure in the fingers wanes
they set the light free and take the head along
out to the boats which have long been looking
like small glassy bones, the swell is hiding them
proffering them
From: Mouth to Mouth. Contemporary German Poetry in Translation.
nachmittag, wechselnde sicht
nachmittag, wechselnde sicht
über dem strich der mole. einzelne punkte, das wasserglimmt gelb auf, wenn die sonne durch die wolken
flüstert, wölbt sich die hand, um das licht
an der iris zu halten. wimpern hängen ins bild
die schiene des lids, auf der die segel nach draußen
rutschen, kiemen, und das ufer bewegt sich
in richtung hafen. die haare folgen dem wind
der weit ausholt, auf der haut der häuser
treten knorpel hervor und die fensterläden
schnappen nach luft. als hinge alles am rhythmus
der tropfen, die gegen die steintreppe klatschen
doch der druck in den fingern läßt nach
sie geben das licht frei und nehmen den kopf
mit hinaus zu den booten, die lange schon kleinen
glasigen knochen gleichen, die dünung versteckt sie
zeigt sie her
© 2003, Nico Bleutge
From: Mouth to Mouth. Contemporary German Poetry in Translation.
Publisher: Giramondo Publishing Company: Newcastle, Australia 2004
From: Mouth to Mouth. Contemporary German Poetry in Translation.
Publisher: Giramondo Publishing Company: Newcastle, Australia 2004
Poems
Poems of Nico Bleutge
Close
afternoon, shifting view
above the line of the mole. single points, the waterglimmers up yellow when the sun whispers through the
clouds, the hand curves round to catch the light
on the iris. into the picture eyelashes hang
the guide-rail of the lid, on which the sails slide
out to sea, gills, and the shore moves along
towards the harbour. the hair is following the wind
which goes back a long way, on the skin of the houses
cartilage is protruding and the shutters
are gasping for air. as though all hinged on the rhythm
of the drops which are beating against the stone stairs
but the pressure in the fingers wanes
they set the light free and take the head along
out to the boats which have long been looking
like small glassy bones, the swell is hiding them
proffering them
From: Mouth to Mouth. Contemporary German Poetry in Translation.
afternoon, shifting view
above the line of the mole. single points, the waterglimmers up yellow when the sun whispers through the
clouds, the hand curves round to catch the light
on the iris. into the picture eyelashes hang
the guide-rail of the lid, on which the sails slide
out to sea, gills, and the shore moves along
towards the harbour. the hair is following the wind
which goes back a long way, on the skin of the houses
cartilage is protruding and the shutters
are gasping for air. as though all hinged on the rhythm
of the drops which are beating against the stone stairs
but the pressure in the fingers wanes
they set the light free and take the head along
out to the boats which have long been looking
like small glassy bones, the swell is hiding them
proffering them
From: Mouth to Mouth. Contemporary German Poetry in Translation.
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