Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Delphine Lecompte

THE WHALE FILM OR THE EYE OPERATION

There was once a Friday and I was once a child
I was given the choice between the film about whales and the eye operation
Of my grandfather, I chose the whale film and my grandfather lived on
After being discharged from hospital, he was as voracious and satyric as ever
He wore an eye patch for a while, it was a success.

The rugged fisher women thought the eye patch made him look sophisticated
The sophisticated stables ladies thought the eye patch made him look rugged
My grandmother and the doctor said the eye patch was no longer needed
And I found a Roman coin in the garden and said to my grandparents,
‘Now I can take care of myself, ha! I’m going to buy a house in Ireland.
Don’t stop me. I’m taking the dog and the Bali tapestry, even if
It will be red-tape hell; what with their irrational fear of rabies and carpet beetle . . . ’

They let me leave, but the coin was worthless
So I had to go back
My grandmother laughed at me and my grandfather asked,
‘Do you want mocha ice cream or two pounds of cherries?’
He no longer wore an eye patch, his polo shirt was too white and his forehead too marbled
It was Saturday and they let me draw until midnight.

I drew grizzly bears and bolts of lightning
It was probably the grizzlies’ fault
That the houses were on fire
My grandmother dropped a plaice in the kitchen
And my grandfather said, ‘Every Saturday, that cow drops a plaice in the kitchen!!’

I was very unhappy with my drawing
But had already become too vain to tear up my work
The dog dreamed he was a clairvoyant whale
Or a stuttering emperor, or neither of the two
He lay shivering in an undersized cage in an underheated border post
With a coin on his stomach, a fake Roman one.

De walvisfilm of de oogoperatie

De walvisfilm of de oogoperatie

Er was eens een vrijdag en ik was eens een kind
Ik moest kiezen tussen de walvisfilm en de oogoperatie
Van mijn grootvader, ik koos voor de walvisfilm en mijn grootvader bleef leven
Na zijn ziekenhuisontslag was hij even gulzig en saterachtig als voorheen
Een tijdje droeg hij een ooglap, het sloeg aan.

De ruige vissersvrouwen vonden dat de ooglap hem gesofisticeerd maakte
De gesofisticeerde manegemadammen vonden dat de ooglap hem ruiger maakte
Mijn grootmoeder en de dokter zeiden dat de ooglap onnodig was geworden
En ik vond een Romeins muntstuk in de tuin en ik zei tegen mijn grootouders:
‘Nu kan ik mijn eigen boontjes doppen, ha! Ik ga een huis kopen in Ierland.
Hou me niet tegen. Ik neem de hond mee en het Balinese wandtapijt, ook al
Wordt dat een bureaucratische hel; met die irrationele angst voor rabiës en tapijtwormen…’

Ze lieten mij gaan maar het muntstuk was niets waard
Dus moest ik terugkeren
Mijn grootmoeder lachte mij uit en mijn grootvader vroeg:
‘Wil je mokka-ijs of een kilo kersen?’
Hij droeg geen ooglap meer, zijn poloshirt was te wit en zijn voorhoofd te gemarmerd
Het was zaterdag en ik mocht tekenen tot middernacht.

Ik tekende grizzlyberen en blikseminslagen
Waarschijnlijk was het de schuld van de grizzlyberen
Dat de huizen in brand stonden
Mijn grootmoeder liet een pladijs vallen in de keuken
En mijn grootvader zei: ‘Elke zaterdag laat die trut een pladijs vallen in de keuken!!’

Ik was zeer ontevreden over mijn tekening
Maar ook toen reeds te ijdel om de tekening te verscheuren
De hond droomde dat hij een ziende walvis was
Of een stotterende keizer, of geen van beide
Hij lag te beven in een te kleine kooi in een te koud grenslokaal
Met een munt op zijn maag, een valse Romeinse.
Close

THE WHALE FILM OR THE EYE OPERATION

There was once a Friday and I was once a child
I was given the choice between the film about whales and the eye operation
Of my grandfather, I chose the whale film and my grandfather lived on
After being discharged from hospital, he was as voracious and satyric as ever
He wore an eye patch for a while, it was a success.

The rugged fisher women thought the eye patch made him look sophisticated
The sophisticated stables ladies thought the eye patch made him look rugged
My grandmother and the doctor said the eye patch was no longer needed
And I found a Roman coin in the garden and said to my grandparents,
‘Now I can take care of myself, ha! I’m going to buy a house in Ireland.
Don’t stop me. I’m taking the dog and the Bali tapestry, even if
It will be red-tape hell; what with their irrational fear of rabies and carpet beetle . . . ’

They let me leave, but the coin was worthless
So I had to go back
My grandmother laughed at me and my grandfather asked,
‘Do you want mocha ice cream or two pounds of cherries?’
He no longer wore an eye patch, his polo shirt was too white and his forehead too marbled
It was Saturday and they let me draw until midnight.

I drew grizzly bears and bolts of lightning
It was probably the grizzlies’ fault
That the houses were on fire
My grandmother dropped a plaice in the kitchen
And my grandfather said, ‘Every Saturday, that cow drops a plaice in the kitchen!!’

I was very unhappy with my drawing
But had already become too vain to tear up my work
The dog dreamed he was a clairvoyant whale
Or a stuttering emperor, or neither of the two
He lay shivering in an undersized cage in an underheated border post
With a coin on his stomach, a fake Roman one.

THE WHALE FILM OR THE EYE OPERATION

There was once a Friday and I was once a child
I was given the choice between the film about whales and the eye operation
Of my grandfather, I chose the whale film and my grandfather lived on
After being discharged from hospital, he was as voracious and satyric as ever
He wore an eye patch for a while, it was a success.

The rugged fisher women thought the eye patch made him look sophisticated
The sophisticated stables ladies thought the eye patch made him look rugged
My grandmother and the doctor said the eye patch was no longer needed
And I found a Roman coin in the garden and said to my grandparents,
‘Now I can take care of myself, ha! I’m going to buy a house in Ireland.
Don’t stop me. I’m taking the dog and the Bali tapestry, even if
It will be red-tape hell; what with their irrational fear of rabies and carpet beetle . . . ’

They let me leave, but the coin was worthless
So I had to go back
My grandmother laughed at me and my grandfather asked,
‘Do you want mocha ice cream or two pounds of cherries?’
He no longer wore an eye patch, his polo shirt was too white and his forehead too marbled
It was Saturday and they let me draw until midnight.

I drew grizzly bears and bolts of lightning
It was probably the grizzlies’ fault
That the houses were on fire
My grandmother dropped a plaice in the kitchen
And my grandfather said, ‘Every Saturday, that cow drops a plaice in the kitchen!!’

I was very unhappy with my drawing
But had already become too vain to tear up my work
The dog dreamed he was a clairvoyant whale
Or a stuttering emperor, or neither of the two
He lay shivering in an undersized cage in an underheated border post
With a coin on his stomach, a fake Roman one.
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