Poem
Max Temmerman
HE 3
People flocked togetherround the fiery Christmas trees.
Sparks that swarmed
like wintry insects.
Later that night he
occupied my house, usurper
from the city who readily
planted his standards,
room after room after room.
He cajoled me into going along
and let me hear which gods
were in stock. Protectors
of home, future, garden.
There were golden pheasants in his throat.
He walked with his head in the clouds.
Anchored his legs to my ground.
© Translation: 2017, Max Temmerman
Hij 3
Hij 3
Mensen troepten samenrond kerstbomen in lichterlaaie.
gensters in zwermen
als winterse insecten.
Later die avond nam hij
mijn huis in, veroveraar
uit de stad die zoinder aarzelen
zijn veldtekens plantte,
kamer na kamer na kamer.
Hij troonde me mee
en liet horen welke goden
voorradig waren. Beschermers
van huis, toekomst, tuin.
Er zaten goudfazanten in zijn keel.
Hij liep met zijn hoofd in de wolken.
Ankerde zijn benen in mijn grond.
© 2015, Max Temmerman
From: Zondag acht dagen
Publisher: Vrijdag, Antwerpen
From: Zondag acht dagen
Publisher: Vrijdag, Antwerpen
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Poems of Max Temmerman
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HE 3
People flocked togetherround the fiery Christmas trees.
Sparks that swarmed
like wintry insects.
Later that night he
occupied my house, usurper
from the city who readily
planted his standards,
room after room after room.
He cajoled me into going along
and let me hear which gods
were in stock. Protectors
of home, future, garden.
There were golden pheasants in his throat.
He walked with his head in the clouds.
Anchored his legs to my ground.
© 2017, Max Temmerman
From: Zondag acht dagen
From: Zondag acht dagen
HE 3
People flocked togetherround the fiery Christmas trees.
Sparks that swarmed
like wintry insects.
Later that night he
occupied my house, usurper
from the city who readily
planted his standards,
room after room after room.
He cajoled me into going along
and let me hear which gods
were in stock. Protectors
of home, future, garden.
There were golden pheasants in his throat.
He walked with his head in the clouds.
Anchored his legs to my ground.
© 2017, Max Temmerman
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