Poem
Chris Abani
CHANGING TIMES
VERANDERENDE TIJDEN
Drie-minuten-spaghetti. Vis-in-de-zak.Panklare pasta. Een beker vrijgezellen-instant-soep
verbazen me haast evenzeer als
de magnetron, m’n nieuwe laptop en de
blijvende kracht van Coltranes A Love Supreme
en Miles’ Kind of Blue.
Niet dat ik m’n maatstaven verlaagde
met een te dankbaar gehemelte
of die zeergeliefde mannelijke
fascinatie voor nieuwe speeltjes en jazz.
Maar ik leer m’n leven te proeven
zonder oordelen. Denk ik.
© Vertaling: 2003, Jabik Veenbaas
CHANGING TIMES
Three minute spaghetti. Boil in the bag fish.Pot noodle. A mug of Batchelor’s instant soup,
amaze me nearly as much as
microwaves, my new laptop and the
enduring power of Coltrane’s A Love Supreme
and Miles’ Kind of Blue.
It’s not that I have lowered standards
with a too grateful palate
or that much espoused masculine
fascination for new toys and old jazz.
But I am learning to taste my life
without judgement. I think.
© 2000, Kalakuta Republic
From: Kalakuta Republic
Publisher: Saqui,
From: Kalakuta Republic
Publisher: Saqui,
Poems
Poems of Chris Abani
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CHANGING TIMES
Three minute spaghetti. Boil in the bag fish.Pot noodle. A mug of Batchelor’s instant soup,
amaze me nearly as much as
microwaves, my new laptop and the
enduring power of Coltrane’s A Love Supreme
and Miles’ Kind of Blue.
It’s not that I have lowered standards
with a too grateful palate
or that much espoused masculine
fascination for new toys and old jazz.
But I am learning to taste my life
without judgement. I think.
From: Kalakuta Republic
CHANGING TIMES
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