Poem
Charles Simic
I was stolen by the gypsies
Ik werd gestolen door de zigeuners
Ik werd gestolen door de zigeuners. Mijn ouders stalenme meteen weer terug. Toen stalen de zigeuners me nog
eens. Dit ging een tijdje zo door. Het ene moment lag
ik in de woonwagen te zuigen aan de donkere tiet van
mijn nieuwe moeder, het volgende zat ik aan de lange
eetkamertafel met een zilveren lepel mijn ontbijt te nuttigen.
En nu was het de eerste dag van de lente. Een van
mijn vaders zat in de badkuip te zingen; de andere was
een levende mus aan het beschilderen in de kleuren van
een tropische vogel.
© Vertaling: 1993, Peter Nijmeijer
I was stolen by the gypsies. My parents stole
me right back. Then the gypsies stole me again.
This went on for some time. One minute I was
in the caravan suckling the dark teat of my new
mother, the next I sat at the long dining room table
eating my breakfast with a silver spoon.
It was the first day of spring. One of my
fathers was singing in the bathtub; the other one
was painting a live sparrow the colors of a tropical
bird.
me right back. Then the gypsies stole me again.
This went on for some time. One minute I was
in the caravan suckling the dark teat of my new
mother, the next I sat at the long dining room table
eating my breakfast with a silver spoon.
It was the first day of spring. One of my
fathers was singing in the bathtub; the other one
was painting a live sparrow the colors of a tropical
bird.
From: The World Doesn\'t End
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt,
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt,
Charles Simic
(United States of America, 1938 - 2023)
In 1985, 1993 and 1997 Charles Simic was a guest at the Poetry International festival in Rotterdam. You can listen to recordings of his poetry made on this occasion.
Links:
Read about Charles Simic on Wikipedia.
Extended biography at Poetry Foundation.
Poems
Poems of Charles Simic
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I was stolen by the gypsies
I was stolen by the gypsies. My parents stoleme right back. Then the gypsies stole me again.
This went on for some time. One minute I was
in the caravan suckling the dark teat of my new
mother, the next I sat at the long dining room table
eating my breakfast with a silver spoon.
It was the first day of spring. One of my
fathers was singing in the bathtub; the other one
was painting a live sparrow the colors of a tropical
bird.
From: The World Doesn\'t End
I was stolen by the gypsies
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