Poem
Durs Grünbein
BANG!
That’s when the tyre burst. In front of us the lorry
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
PENG!
Toen klapte de band. Vlak voor ons begon de truckTe slingeren. Hij dreef als op woeste baren
Op de snelweg, waarop we zesbaans voortraasden.
Iedereen remde, een lichtkrant schreeuwde Ho! Ho! Ho!
En toen begon het ballet: ballet van zwanen uit blik,
De halzen omstrengeld, gesmiespel, aanrakingen.
Dan de ommekeer, en de schare vloog uiteen,
In de berm opnieuw opgesteld als na een gevecht.
Dat nu was het leven tot nog toe. Tot hier leidden
Vangrails je naar het nieuwste, absurde gevaar.
Fantastische indruk: je eigen trillende hand…
Onvoorstelbaar dat we elkaar ooit spraken onder eiken.
Een getoeter, het verkeer reed weer. Maar die ene bleef,
Zijn hoofd op het stuur. Slapen, alleen maar slapen.
PENG!
Dann platzte der Reifen. Vor uns der LasterGeriet ins Schlingern. Er trieb wie auf hoher See
Über die Autobahn, auf der wir sechsspurig rasten.
Alles bremste, eine Lichtorgel schrie Steh! Steh! Steh!
Und da begann das Ballett: Tanz der Schwäne aus Blech,
Die Hälse umschlungen, ein Tuscheln, Touchieren.
Dann die Wendung, und auseinander spritzte die Schar,
Am Straßenrand neu formiert wie nach einem Gefecht.
Das war nun das Leben, soweit. Bis hierher führten
Leitplanken dich in die jüngste, absurde Gefahr.
Traumhafter Eindruck: die eigene zitternde Hand…
Unfaßbar, daß wir uns einmal unter Baumriesen trafen…
Ein Hupen, weiter ging der Verkehr. Doch einer stand,
Den Kopf auf dem Lenkrad. Schlafen, nur schlafen.
Poems
Poems of Durs Grünbein
Close
BANG!
That’s when the tyre burst. In front of us the lorry
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
BANG!
That’s when the tyre burst. In front of us the lorry
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
Started to swerve. Lurched across the motorway,
All six speeding lanes of it, as if carried by the sea
Everything braking, a barrage of lights screeching Stay!
And so it began: a dance of iron swans, a ballet
Of whispering, touching, necks intertwined.
Then the turning point, and the flock burst apart,
Re-grouping at the edge as if there’d been a fight.
That was it then, life up to now. This was the place
The barriers had brought you, this latest absurd peril.
Like an image in a dream: your own trembling hand . . .
Inconceivable that we once met under giant trees.
The sound of horns, the traffic continues. But one stands,
Head on the steering wheel. Sleep, just let me sleep.
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