Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Claudiu Komartin

Emily’s eyes over Amherst

This night does not know the words of introduction

This night with little robots and lasers, with Scalextric toy cars

This night dirtied by grease

This night that throws everything in your face

This night that is kidnapping hitchhikers and shutting them away
in an attic filled with toy animals and clowns

This night that is secretly looking at the papers of a poet who
no longer believes

This long night of allegory

This night the old differences are coming to a head, shades pulled
down, the shop shut up

This night anxiously anticipating from the crowd
the announcement of a new pope

This night when white tigers are dreaming of the wind-up bird

This night with neither tongue nor eyes, a scalp from which
something is slowly leaking

This night with its cleansing milks, its goddamned braces

This night that’s rocking you, this silky purring beside you, that
leans deep inside

This night, it plays nicely with you & leaves you bloodied

This night that’s smoking despite the ban on burning

This night throttled by the trepidation of a first entry

This night that unplugs souls

This night that exits the gates of the Machine ready to sacrifice itself
for a noble cause

This night of Lace and Extermination

This night carved out of wood

This night, room and distance, with bodies of silence surrounding

This night smelling of dough and fresh paint

This night when bread and flesh are black as in a poem
by Antonio Gamoneda

This night does not play the fool when it comes to love

This night is a revolutionary with fierce breasts and unattainable ideals

This night disarming nuclear warheads

This night overturning drilling platforms and plunging them to great depths

This night filling with horror those who thought that imagination
could not

This night with great and dimmed stars like the eyes of Emily
over Amherst

Ochii lui Emily peste Amherst

Ochii lui Emily peste Amherst

Noaptea asta nu știe cuvintele de introducere

Noaptea asta cu roboței și lasere, cu mașinuțe teleghidate

Noaptea asta murdară de leșie pe mâini

Noaptea asta care-ți aruncă totul în față

Noaptea asta răpește autostopiști și îi închide într-o mansardă cu animăluțe de pluș și clovni

Noaptea asta trage cu ochiul în hârtiile unui poet care nu mai crede

Noaptea asta ca o lungă alegorie

Noaptea asta se tranșează vechile diferende, se trag storurile, se închide casa

Noaptea asta privește emoționată din mulțime alegerea unui nou papă

Noaptea asta în care tigrii albi visează pasărea-arc

Noaptea asta fără limbă și fără ochi o căpățână din care se scurge ceva

Noaptea asta cu laptele ei demachiant, cu blestematele de bretele

Noaptea asta te leagănă, toarce mieros lângă tine, ți se bagă în suflet

Noaptea asta se joacă cu tine frumos și te lasă într-o baltă de sânge

Noaptea asta fumează  în ciuda avertismentului de incendiu

Noaptea asta gâtuită de emoție ca o debutantă

Noaptea asta va scoate din priză câteva suflete

Noaptea asta ieșită de pe porțile Utilajului, gata să se sacrifice pentru o cauză nobilă

Noaptea asta Dantelă și Exterminare

Noaptea asta sculptată-ntr-un lemn

Noaptea asta, camera și distanța, corpurile de tăcere din jur

Noaptea asta mirosind a aluat și a vopsea proaspătă

Noaptea asta, pâinea și carnea sunt negre ca într-un poem de Antonio Gamoneda

Noaptea asta nu știe de glumă când vine vorba de dragoste

Noaptea asta e o comunistă cu sâni puternici și cu idealuri de neatins

Noaptea asta dezarmează focoasele nucleare

Noaptea asta răstoarnă stațiile de forare și le îngroapă la mari adâncimi

Noaptea asta le bagă spaima în sân celor care au crezut că imaginația nu

Noaptea asta cu stele mari și stinse ca ochii lui Emily peste Amherst
Close

Emily’s eyes over Amherst

This night does not know the words of introduction

This night with little robots and lasers, with Scalextric toy cars

This night dirtied by grease

This night that throws everything in your face

This night that is kidnapping hitchhikers and shutting them away
in an attic filled with toy animals and clowns

This night that is secretly looking at the papers of a poet who
no longer believes

This long night of allegory

This night the old differences are coming to a head, shades pulled
down, the shop shut up

This night anxiously anticipating from the crowd
the announcement of a new pope

This night when white tigers are dreaming of the wind-up bird

This night with neither tongue nor eyes, a scalp from which
something is slowly leaking

This night with its cleansing milks, its goddamned braces

This night that’s rocking you, this silky purring beside you, that
leans deep inside

This night, it plays nicely with you & leaves you bloodied

This night that’s smoking despite the ban on burning

This night throttled by the trepidation of a first entry

This night that unplugs souls

This night that exits the gates of the Machine ready to sacrifice itself
for a noble cause

This night of Lace and Extermination

This night carved out of wood

This night, room and distance, with bodies of silence surrounding

This night smelling of dough and fresh paint

This night when bread and flesh are black as in a poem
by Antonio Gamoneda

This night does not play the fool when it comes to love

This night is a revolutionary with fierce breasts and unattainable ideals

This night disarming nuclear warheads

This night overturning drilling platforms and plunging them to great depths

This night filling with horror those who thought that imagination
could not

This night with great and dimmed stars like the eyes of Emily
over Amherst

Emily’s eyes over Amherst

This night does not know the words of introduction

This night with little robots and lasers, with Scalextric toy cars

This night dirtied by grease

This night that throws everything in your face

This night that is kidnapping hitchhikers and shutting them away
in an attic filled with toy animals and clowns

This night that is secretly looking at the papers of a poet who
no longer believes

This long night of allegory

This night the old differences are coming to a head, shades pulled
down, the shop shut up

This night anxiously anticipating from the crowd
the announcement of a new pope

This night when white tigers are dreaming of the wind-up bird

This night with neither tongue nor eyes, a scalp from which
something is slowly leaking

This night with its cleansing milks, its goddamned braces

This night that’s rocking you, this silky purring beside you, that
leans deep inside

This night, it plays nicely with you & leaves you bloodied

This night that’s smoking despite the ban on burning

This night throttled by the trepidation of a first entry

This night that unplugs souls

This night that exits the gates of the Machine ready to sacrifice itself
for a noble cause

This night of Lace and Extermination

This night carved out of wood

This night, room and distance, with bodies of silence surrounding

This night smelling of dough and fresh paint

This night when bread and flesh are black as in a poem
by Antonio Gamoneda

This night does not play the fool when it comes to love

This night is a revolutionary with fierce breasts and unattainable ideals

This night disarming nuclear warheads

This night overturning drilling platforms and plunging them to great depths

This night filling with horror those who thought that imagination
could not

This night with great and dimmed stars like the eyes of Emily
over Amherst
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