Poem
Peter Verhelst
1.
It is better to be a martyr to our love than liveAs a murderer. Not love, but life brings us fatigue.
Life is too cruel for poetry, no matter how creative
And lovely your mouth is, whether we are in league
Or not, one day the moment will come you can’t tell
Who I am any longer, as if I, that is,
Am just a thing, a boring weight, my body a shell,
Nothing more to stroke or lick or kiss,
Something that is in the way, the obstacle.
Life is too coarse for us, not good enough,
Too many rules, a hassle and cackle.
It stains us, it dirties what both you and I
Dreamt we would be, a Siamese twin, a new star sign
Stitched onto the dark fabric of night.
1.
1.
Het is beter martelaar te zijn van onze liefdeDan moordenaar. Niet liefde, maar het leven maakt ons moe.
Het leven is te wreed voor poëzie, hoe inventief en lief je
Mond ook is, wat ik ook met je doe
Of niet, ooit komt de seconde dat je mij bekijkt
Alsof je me niet langer kent, alsof ik een
Ding ben, saai gewicht, m’n lijf een lijk,
Niets meer te strelen of te kussen of te likken,
Iets wat in de weg ligt, het obstakel.
Het leven is te lomp voor ons, te min,
Te veel regels en gekonkel en gekakel.
Het besmeurt ons, het bevuilt wat jij en ik
Droomden te zijn, een Siamese tweeling, een nieuw sterrenbeeld
Op de zwarte lakens van de nacht gestikt.
From: Nieuwe sterrenbeelden
Publisher: Prometheus, Amsterdam
Publisher: Prometheus, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Peter Verhelst
Close
1.
It is better to be a martyr to our love than liveAs a murderer. Not love, but life brings us fatigue.
Life is too cruel for poetry, no matter how creative
And lovely your mouth is, whether we are in league
Or not, one day the moment will come you can’t tell
Who I am any longer, as if I, that is,
Am just a thing, a boring weight, my body a shell,
Nothing more to stroke or lick or kiss,
Something that is in the way, the obstacle.
Life is too coarse for us, not good enough,
Too many rules, a hassle and cackle.
It stains us, it dirties what both you and I
Dreamt we would be, a Siamese twin, a new star sign
Stitched onto the dark fabric of night.
From: Nieuwe sterrenbeelden
1.
It is better to be a martyr to our love than liveAs a murderer. Not love, but life brings us fatigue.
Life is too cruel for poetry, no matter how creative
And lovely your mouth is, whether we are in league
Or not, one day the moment will come you can’t tell
Who I am any longer, as if I, that is,
Am just a thing, a boring weight, my body a shell,
Nothing more to stroke or lick or kiss,
Something that is in the way, the obstacle.
Life is too coarse for us, not good enough,
Too many rules, a hassle and cackle.
It stains us, it dirties what both you and I
Dreamt we would be, a Siamese twin, a new star sign
Stitched onto the dark fabric of night.
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