Poem
Kim Moore
Body, Remember
Lichaam, weet je nog
Lichaam, weet je nog die nacht dat je deed alsofhet een film was, er liep een soundtrack
door je hoofd, lieg niet tegen me lichaam,
je weet wat het is. Je houdt het voor mij verborgen,
de uitgestreken witte lakens van een bed,
het ronddraaien ervan, het hoge klaaglijke geluid
in je hoofd. Lichaam, weet je nog hoe het voelde,
natuurlijk, natuurlijk. Je liegt tegen me. Laat me zien
hoe de glinstering in het oog van de hond te herkennen,
de dolle hond. Herinner me, O lichaam, aan de manier
waarop hij bewoog toen hij dronk, die geladen stilte.
Laat me voelen hoe ik mijn ogen neersloeg, vogels
uit de lucht vielen, hoe mijn hart een veld was en er
een hond liep, los op het veld, hij viel de schapen lastig,
zij holden rond en stonden opeens stil. O lichaam, laat me
weten hoe het voelde een veld op de borst te hebben,
O lichaam, laat me de hond herkennen.
© Vertaling: 2015, Willem Groenewegen
Body, Remember
Body, remember that night you pretendedit was a film, you had a soundtrack running
through your head, don’t lie to me body,
you know what it is. You’re keeping it from me,
the stretched white sheets of a bed,
the spinning round of it, the high whining sound
in the head. Body, you remember how it felt,
surely, surely. You’re lying to me. Show me
how to recognise the glint in the eye of the dog,
the rabid dog. Remind me, O body, of the way
he moved when he drank, that dangerous silence.
Let me feel how I let my eyes drop, birds falling
from a sky, how my heart was a field, and there
was a dog, loose in the field, it was worrying
the sheep, they were running and then
they were still. O body, let me remember
what it was to have a field in my chest,
O body, let me recognise the dog.
From: The Art of Falling
Publisher: Seren Books, Bridgend
Publisher: Seren Books, Bridgend
Kim Moore
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1981)
Kim Moore was born in Leicester and moved to Cumbria in 2004, where she now lives and works as a poet and a peripatetic brass teacher. She won an Eric Gregory Award in 2011, and in 2012, If We Could Speak Like Wolves was a winner in The Poetry Business Pamphlet Competition, chosen by Carol Ann Duffy. Moore won a New Writing North Award in 2014, and her first full collection, The Art of Falling,...
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Body, Remember
Body, remember that night you pretendedit was a film, you had a soundtrack running
through your head, don’t lie to me body,
you know what it is. You’re keeping it from me,
the stretched white sheets of a bed,
the spinning round of it, the high whining sound
in the head. Body, you remember how it felt,
surely, surely. You’re lying to me. Show me
how to recognise the glint in the eye of the dog,
the rabid dog. Remind me, O body, of the way
he moved when he drank, that dangerous silence.
Let me feel how I let my eyes drop, birds falling
from a sky, how my heart was a field, and there
was a dog, loose in the field, it was worrying
the sheep, they were running and then
they were still. O body, let me remember
what it was to have a field in my chest,
O body, let me recognise the dog.
From: The Art of Falling
Body, Remember
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