Poem
Max Temmerman
HE 2
Intolerable I was,you honestly have no idea.
Later, we lived together in a house
in which we shared small rooms.
The years ran their course,
as faded as the clothes
he let slide off his
angular body.
One shoulder raised,
I can still see him standing there.
Field-god. Herald.
Patron saint of travellers.
We lived on the frayed edge
of an Antwerp suburb.
© Translation: 2017, Max Temmerman
Hij 2
Hij 2
Onuitstaanbaar dat ik was,je hebt daar geen gedacht van.
Later woonden we samen in een huis
waar we kleine kamers deelden.
De jaren hadden hun beloop,
verschoten als de kleren
die hij van zijn hoekige
lichaam liet schuiven.
Eén schouder de hoogte in,
nog zie ik hem daar staan.
Weidegod. Boodschapper.
Patroonheilige van reizigers.
Wij woonden aan de rafelige
rand van Borgerhout.
© 2015, Max Temmerman
From: Zondag acht dagen
Publisher: Vrijdag, Antwerpen
From: Zondag acht dagen
Publisher: Vrijdag, Antwerpen
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HE 2
Intolerable I was,you honestly have no idea.
Later, we lived together in a house
in which we shared small rooms.
The years ran their course,
as faded as the clothes
he let slide off his
angular body.
One shoulder raised,
I can still see him standing there.
Field-god. Herald.
Patron saint of travellers.
We lived on the frayed edge
of an Antwerp suburb.
© 2017, Max Temmerman
From: Zondag acht dagen
From: Zondag acht dagen
HE 2
Intolerable I was,you honestly have no idea.
Later, we lived together in a house
in which we shared small rooms.
The years ran their course,
as faded as the clothes
he let slide off his
angular body.
One shoulder raised,
I can still see him standing there.
Field-god. Herald.
Patron saint of travellers.
We lived on the frayed edge
of an Antwerp suburb.
© 2017, Max Temmerman
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