Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Erik Lindner

There is blood in your lips

There is blood in your lips
and yet the wind pipes

yet the tube rumbles
under the table so much
that your head slumps
and even a faint word
explodes in your ear

your hair is strewn
across the cloth
yet your eye opens
and weighs in the lamplight
the dust that vibrates in the air

and the stuff that descends on you
too small for the table
too fine for the wind.

Er zit bloed in je lippen

Er zit bloed in je lippen
en toch fluit de wind

toch roffelt de metro
onder de tafel zo
dat je hoofd omvalt
en ook een zacht woord
explodeert in je oor

je haren liggen verspreid
over het kleed
toch opent je oog
en meet in het lamplicht
het stof dat trilt in de lucht

en de stof die op je daalt
te klein voor de tafel
te fijn voor de wind.
Close

There is blood in your lips

There is blood in your lips
and yet the wind pipes

yet the tube rumbles
under the table so much
that your head slumps
and even a faint word
explodes in your ear

your hair is strewn
across the cloth
yet your eye opens
and weighs in the lamplight
the dust that vibrates in the air

and the stuff that descends on you
too small for the table
too fine for the wind.

There is blood in your lips

There is blood in your lips
and yet the wind pipes

yet the tube rumbles
under the table so much
that your head slumps
and even a faint word
explodes in your ear

your hair is strewn
across the cloth
yet your eye opens
and weighs in the lamplight
the dust that vibrates in the air

and the stuff that descends on you
too small for the table
too fine for the wind.
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