Ingmar Heytze
WHAT REMAINED
One by one, things went on holiday.
Cars grew attached to the tarmac,
shopping centres turned empty.
The days of the week dissolved.
We lived on in months
that faded into seasons.
The garden turned a jungle
of crops we’d planted
when everything was still open.
Sometimes we were scared, but you’re not
scared a lifetime. We made space, step
after step we walked backwards to the sidelines.
What remained: a smaller world to inhabit,
a sky full of birds and stars, the bliss
of those who exist in order to exist.
From: Met wat geluk
Publisher: First publication on poetryinternational.com, , 2023
WAT BLEEF
WAT BLEEF
Een voor een gingen de dingen op vakantie.
Auto’s groeiden vast aan het asfalt,
winkelcentra raakten leeg.
De dagen van de week losten op.
We leefden verder in maanden
die vervaagden tot seizoenen.
De tuin werd een jungle
van gewassen die we hadden geplant
toen alles nog open was.
Soms waren we bang, maar bang blijf je
geen leven lang. We maakten ruimte, stap
na stap liepen we ruggelings naar de zijlijn.
Wat bleef: een kleinere wereld om te bewonen,
een hemel vol vogels en sterren, het geluk
van wie bestaat om te bestaan.
From: Met wat geluk
Publisher: Uitgeverij Podium, Amsterdam
WHAT REMAINED
One by one, things went on holiday.
Cars grew attached to the tarmac,
shopping centres turned empty.
The days of the week dissolved.
We lived on in months
that faded into seasons.
The garden turned a jungle
of crops we’d planted
when everything was still open.
Sometimes we were scared, but you’re not
scared a lifetime. We made space, step
after step we walked backwards to the sidelines.
What remained: a smaller world to inhabit,
a sky full of birds and stars, the bliss
of those who exist in order to exist.
From: Met wat geluk
Publisher: 2023, First publication on poetryinternational.com, Amsterdam
WHAT REMAINED
One by one, things went on holiday.
Cars grew attached to the tarmac,
shopping centres turned empty.
The days of the week dissolved.
We lived on in months
that faded into seasons.
The garden turned a jungle
of crops we’d planted
when everything was still open.
Sometimes we were scared, but you’re not
scared a lifetime. We made space, step
after step we walked backwards to the sidelines.
What remained: a smaller world to inhabit,
a sky full of birds and stars, the bliss
of those who exist in order to exist.
From: Met wat geluk
Publisher: 2023, First publication on poetryinternational.com,