Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Nicolae Coande

They wouldn’t let me rule the world

They wouldn’t let me rule the world at five when I had strength tears
my name was bigger than my head
yet today when they all want to get out I cling to my old bearing
“alone forsaken like a fawn in the poor man’s cauldron”
liketheybind with tiny fingers the string to balloons lost in the sky.
Don’t forsake a man in trouble and Trouble is out toying with minds
like the devil  toys in the scriptorium when he’s on his own with the world
a young soul falls asleep on its way to the slaughterhouse –
noticed how clever kids are at denying everything that succeeds them
in this world
at allowing the afterlife to stay unchanged under the frenzied howling of adults?
Edges and corners I have to fend as in dramatic calculation.
They wouldn’t let me rule the world (“like you’d cook fish
with slighter hand”)
yet today when they all scream to get out I’m the boy frightened
his parents left him alone in the house with poetry – strength name and tears.
Watching a knife when it thinks no one sees
there’s history.

Nu m-au lăsat să conduc lumea

Nu m-au lăsat să conduc lumea

Nu m-au lăsat să conduc lumea la cinci ani cînd aveam putere lacrimi
numele îmi era mai mare decît capul
iar astăzi cînd toţi vor să scape mă agăţ de vechiul meu chip
„singur părăsit ca un ied în ceaunul săracului”
cum se prinde cu degete mici sfoara de baloanele pierdute în cer.
Nu lăsa omul la necaz şi Necazul se joacă pe-afară cu mintea
cum se joacă dracu’-n scriptorium cînd rămîne singur cu lumea
un pui de suflet adoarme în drum spre abator –
ai văzut cum se pricep copiii să refuze tot ce vine după ei
pe lumea asta
să lase neschimbată viața de apoi înstrigătele furioase ale adulților?
Muchii şi colţuri de care trebuie să am grijă ca-ntr-un calcul dramatic.
Nu m-au lăsat să conduc lumea („cum ai găti un peşte
cu mînă uşoară”)
iar astăzi cînd toţi strigă să scape sînt băieţelul speriat
că ai lui l-au lăsat singur cu poezia încasă – putere nume şi lacrimi.
Să priveşti un cuţit cînd crede că nimeni nu-l vede
uite istoria.
Close

They wouldn’t let me rule the world

They wouldn’t let me rule the world at five when I had strength tears
my name was bigger than my head
yet today when they all want to get out I cling to my old bearing
“alone forsaken like a fawn in the poor man’s cauldron”
liketheybind with tiny fingers the string to balloons lost in the sky.
Don’t forsake a man in trouble and Trouble is out toying with minds
like the devil  toys in the scriptorium when he’s on his own with the world
a young soul falls asleep on its way to the slaughterhouse –
noticed how clever kids are at denying everything that succeeds them
in this world
at allowing the afterlife to stay unchanged under the frenzied howling of adults?
Edges and corners I have to fend as in dramatic calculation.
They wouldn’t let me rule the world (“like you’d cook fish
with slighter hand”)
yet today when they all scream to get out I’m the boy frightened
his parents left him alone in the house with poetry – strength name and tears.
Watching a knife when it thinks no one sees
there’s history.

They wouldn’t let me rule the world

They wouldn’t let me rule the world at five when I had strength tears
my name was bigger than my head
yet today when they all want to get out I cling to my old bearing
“alone forsaken like a fawn in the poor man’s cauldron”
liketheybind with tiny fingers the string to balloons lost in the sky.
Don’t forsake a man in trouble and Trouble is out toying with minds
like the devil  toys in the scriptorium when he’s on his own with the world
a young soul falls asleep on its way to the slaughterhouse –
noticed how clever kids are at denying everything that succeeds them
in this world
at allowing the afterlife to stay unchanged under the frenzied howling of adults?
Edges and corners I have to fend as in dramatic calculation.
They wouldn’t let me rule the world (“like you’d cook fish
with slighter hand”)
yet today when they all scream to get out I’m the boy frightened
his parents left him alone in the house with poetry – strength name and tears.
Watching a knife when it thinks no one sees
there’s history.
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