Erik Solvanger
'It looks as if someone has taken a small cup'
It looks as if someone has taken a small cup
of warm milk and poured it into my skull.
The tissue is soft and viscous,
I have half disappeared.
The scan does not explain
why I started babbling neologisms,
why I wore dresses in the winter
and left trousers flapping in the garden like scarecrows.
Is someone singing a song? How many more nights of sleep
before something like this clears up, before I’m me again?
What white angel has kidnapped me, who took a stick
and beat me lame, my face contorted like a clown?
Every night you circle in circles around my house,
watch me roam through my own house like a ghost,
watch my shadow wander from room to room,
until I am gummed to the window like a black slug.
'Het ziet eruit alsof iemand een kopje'
'Het ziet eruit alsof iemand een kopje'
Het ziet eruit alsof iemand een kopje
warme melk in mijn schedel heeft gegoten.
Het weefsel week en stroperig,
ik ben half verdwenen.
De scan verklaart niet
waarom ik neologismen begin te brabbelen,
waarom ik jurken draag in de winter
en broeken als vogelverschrikkers in de tuin laat wapperen.
Zingt iemand een liedje? Hoeveel nachtjes slapen
voor zoiets oplost, ik er weer ben?
Welke witte engel heeft me ontvoerd, wie heeft mij
met een stok mank geslagen, mijn gezicht scheef als een clown?
Iedere nacht loop je rondjes rond mijn huis,
zie je hoe ik als een spook door mijn eigen huis dool,
hoe mijn schaduw van kamer naar kamer dwaalt,
tot ik als een zwarte slak aan het raam blijf kleven.
From: Waarom het leven in een witte jas sneller gaat
Publisher: PoëzieCentrum, Gent
'It looks as if someone has taken a small cup'
It looks as if someone has taken a small cup
of warm milk and poured it into my skull.
The tissue is soft and viscous,
I have half disappeared.
The scan does not explain
why I started babbling neologisms,
why I wore dresses in the winter
and left trousers flapping in the garden like scarecrows.
Is someone singing a song? How many more nights of sleep
before something like this clears up, before I’m me again?
What white angel has kidnapped me, who took a stick
and beat me lame, my face contorted like a clown?
Every night you circle in circles around my house,
watch me roam through my own house like a ghost,
watch my shadow wander from room to room,
until I am gummed to the window like a black slug.
From: Waarom het leven in een witte jas sneller gaat
'It looks as if someone has taken a small cup'
It looks as if someone has taken a small cup
of warm milk and poured it into my skull.
The tissue is soft and viscous,
I have half disappeared.
The scan does not explain
why I started babbling neologisms,
why I wore dresses in the winter
and left trousers flapping in the garden like scarecrows.
Is someone singing a song? How many more nights of sleep
before something like this clears up, before I’m me again?
What white angel has kidnapped me, who took a stick
and beat me lame, my face contorted like a clown?
Every night you circle in circles around my house,
watch me roam through my own house like a ghost,
watch my shadow wander from room to room,
until I am gummed to the window like a black slug.