Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jan Wagner

KOALAS

so much sleep in only one tree,
so many gray globes
of fur in all the branches, a bohemia
of sluggishness which itself in the treetops holds and holds

and holds with a couple of crampons
as claws. nor was it ever credited, first to take
the journey above the whistling fans
of rainforest canopy, ruffled stoics,

shoddy buddhas, tougher than the poison
in the leaves, with their cotton-wool-
ears against enticements, immune
in some cranny of the world: no waterloo

for them, no walk to canossa.
take note of them, memorize them
while there is time – this face in repose,
this expression of a cyclist

very close to stage win, dis-
connected from the ground, but within our reach
in jaded gray, before each of them yawns, stretches,
drops off into a dream of eucalyptus.

KOALAS

KOALAS

so viel schlaf in nur einem baum,
so viele kugeln aus fell
in all den astgabeln, eine boheme
der trägheit, die sich in den wipfeln hält und hält

und hält mit ein paar klettereisen
als krallen, nie gerühmte erstbesteiger
über den flötenden terrassen
von regenwald, zerzauste stoiker,

verlauste buddhas, zäher als das gift,
das in den blättern wächst, mit ihren watte-
ohren gegen lockungen gefeit
in einem winkelchen von welt: kein water-

loo für sie, kein gang nach canossa.
betrachte, präge sie dir ein, bevor es
zu spät ist – dieses sanfte knauser-
gesicht, die miene eines radrennfahrers

kurz vorm etappensieg, dem grund entrückt,
und doch zum greifen nah ihr abgelebtes
grau –, bevor ein jeder wieder gähnt, sich streckt,
versinkt in einem traum aus eukalyptus.
Close

KOALAS

so much sleep in only one tree,
so many gray globes
of fur in all the branches, a bohemia
of sluggishness which itself in the treetops holds and holds

and holds with a couple of crampons
as claws. nor was it ever credited, first to take
the journey above the whistling fans
of rainforest canopy, ruffled stoics,

shoddy buddhas, tougher than the poison
in the leaves, with their cotton-wool-
ears against enticements, immune
in some cranny of the world: no waterloo

for them, no walk to canossa.
take note of them, memorize them
while there is time – this face in repose,
this expression of a cyclist

very close to stage win, dis-
connected from the ground, but within our reach
in jaded gray, before each of them yawns, stretches,
drops off into a dream of eucalyptus.

KOALAS

so much sleep in only one tree,
so many gray globes
of fur in all the branches, a bohemia
of sluggishness which itself in the treetops holds and holds

and holds with a couple of crampons
as claws. nor was it ever credited, first to take
the journey above the whistling fans
of rainforest canopy, ruffled stoics,

shoddy buddhas, tougher than the poison
in the leaves, with their cotton-wool-
ears against enticements, immune
in some cranny of the world: no waterloo

for them, no walk to canossa.
take note of them, memorize them
while there is time – this face in repose,
this expression of a cyclist

very close to stage win, dis-
connected from the ground, but within our reach
in jaded gray, before each of them yawns, stretches,
drops off into a dream of eucalyptus.
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