Poem
Alfred Schaffer
‘VISIT’ – DAY(DREAM) # 3,623
Sweat pours down my back I’ve suddenly lost my script.I stand there messing around with a map
it seems like an eternity.
Bare trees, tidy streets, shutters closed
but all the houses are inhabited.
At least that’s what I heard.
I leave the engine running just in case.
My car is made of stainless steel but where I go I go in peace.
No stopover this day with potholes in the road
and mist, traffic jams, arid brush, nothing but sand
and all of it without stars without light.
As though I were wandering through my own brain
as though I had drowned in a sea of mercury –
perhaps I’m not reading the map right.
It’s freezing cold here.
Reeling with lightness I tread on a dog, I think
something hairy, it lies there motionless.
If only someone would speak to me, someone who could understand me.
I mean, it’s already evening
I think I should have gone left there
at that playground
only it’s a dead end street.
© Translation: 2014, Michele Hutchison
‘BEZOEK’ – DAG(DROOM) # 3.623
‘BEZOEK’ – DAG(DROOM) # 3.623
Het zweet stroomt langs mijn rug ik heb opeens geen tekst.Ik sta te klooien met een plattegrond
het lijkt een eeuwigheid.
Kale bomen, schone straten, luiken toe
maar alle huizen zijn gewoon bewoond.
Tenminste dat heb ik gehoord.
Voor de zekerheid laat ik de motor draaien.
Mijn wagen is van roestvrij staal maar waar ik kom kom ik in vrede.
De dag was zonder tussenstop met gaten in de weg
en nevel, files, dorre struiken, niets dan zand
en alles zonder sterren zonder licht.
Alsof ik dwaalde door mijn eigen brein
alsof ik was verdronken in een meer van kwik –
misschien lees ik de kaart verkeerd.
Steenkoud is het hier.
Duizelend van lichtheid trap ik denk ik op een hond
iets harigs, roerloos blijft het liggen.
Sprak iemand me maar aan, iemand die me kon verstaan.
Ik bedoel, het is al avond
volgens mij moest ik linksaf daar
bij dat speelplein
maar die straat loopt dood.
© 2014, Alfred Schaffer
From: Mens Dier Ding
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
From: Mens Dier Ding
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Alfred Schaffer
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‘VISIT’ – DAY(DREAM) # 3,623
Sweat pours down my back I’ve suddenly lost my script.I stand there messing around with a map
it seems like an eternity.
Bare trees, tidy streets, shutters closed
but all the houses are inhabited.
At least that’s what I heard.
I leave the engine running just in case.
My car is made of stainless steel but where I go I go in peace.
No stopover this day with potholes in the road
and mist, traffic jams, arid brush, nothing but sand
and all of it without stars without light.
As though I were wandering through my own brain
as though I had drowned in a sea of mercury –
perhaps I’m not reading the map right.
It’s freezing cold here.
Reeling with lightness I tread on a dog, I think
something hairy, it lies there motionless.
If only someone would speak to me, someone who could understand me.
I mean, it’s already evening
I think I should have gone left there
at that playground
only it’s a dead end street.
© 2014, Michele Hutchison
From: Mens Dier Ding
From: Mens Dier Ding
‘VISIT’ – DAY(DREAM) # 3,623
Sweat pours down my back I’ve suddenly lost my script.I stand there messing around with a map
it seems like an eternity.
Bare trees, tidy streets, shutters closed
but all the houses are inhabited.
At least that’s what I heard.
I leave the engine running just in case.
My car is made of stainless steel but where I go I go in peace.
No stopover this day with potholes in the road
and mist, traffic jams, arid brush, nothing but sand
and all of it without stars without light.
As though I were wandering through my own brain
as though I had drowned in a sea of mercury –
perhaps I’m not reading the map right.
It’s freezing cold here.
Reeling with lightness I tread on a dog, I think
something hairy, it lies there motionless.
If only someone would speak to me, someone who could understand me.
I mean, it’s already evening
I think I should have gone left there
at that playground
only it’s a dead end street.
© 2014, Michele Hutchison
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