Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Harkaitz Cano

LOST THINGS, FOUND HOPES

For Nietzsche, hope was the beginning of loss.

But we can be even more radical:
the beginning of anything is the beginning of loss.

We all lose, but some lose more slowly
than others.

‘How’s it going?’ we ask mercilessly.

‘Slowly’, we answer, without really knowing.

Losing slowly is what we call winning.

But I, who do not love losing, love to lose myself in the forest.

Especially in forests
of music and breath,
skin and bark.

VERLOREN DINGEN, GEVONDEN HOOP

Voor Nietzsche was hoop het begin van de nederlaag.

Maar we kunnen nog radicaler zijn:
het begin van alles is het begin van de nederlaag.

Allen verliezen we, alleen verliezen sommigen trager
dan anderen.

‘Hoe gaat het?’ vragen we, zonder medelijden.

‘Traag,’ antwoorden we, zonder het te weten.

Traag verliezen is wat we winnen noemen.

Maar ik, die niet van verliezen houd, verlies me heel graag in het bos.

Vooral in bossen
van schors en muziek
en huid en adem.

OBJEKTU GALDUAK, ESPERANTZA AURKITUAK

Nietzscherentzat, esperantza zen derrotaren hasiera.

Baina izan gintezke erradikalago ere:
gauza guztien hasiera bera da derrotaren hasiera.

Guztiok gara galtzaile, soilik batzuek beste batzuek baino
polikiago galtzen dutela.

“Zer moduz zabiltza?”, galdetzen dugu, dohakabe.

“Poliki”, erantzuten dugu, jakin gabe.

Irabaztea esaten diogu, nonbait, poliki galtzeari.

Baina nik, galtzea maite ez dudan honek, biziki maite dut galtzea basoan.

Batez ere galtzea azala eta musika,
eta arnasa eta larrua
darien basoetan.
Close

LOST THINGS, FOUND HOPES

For Nietzsche, hope was the beginning of loss.

But we can be even more radical:
the beginning of anything is the beginning of loss.

We all lose, but some lose more slowly
than others.

‘How’s it going?’ we ask mercilessly.

‘Slowly’, we answer, without really knowing.

Losing slowly is what we call winning.

But I, who do not love losing, love to lose myself in the forest.

Especially in forests
of music and breath,
skin and bark.

LOST THINGS, FOUND HOPES

For Nietzsche, hope was the beginning of loss.

But we can be even more radical:
the beginning of anything is the beginning of loss.

We all lose, but some lose more slowly
than others.

‘How’s it going?’ we ask mercilessly.

‘Slowly’, we answer, without really knowing.

Losing slowly is what we call winning.

But I, who do not love losing, love to lose myself in the forest.

Especially in forests
of music and breath,
skin and bark.
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
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère