Poem
Remco Campert
INVISIBLE
Oh how beautifulit was in Ostend
in that little hotel
in the rain.
I couldn’t be reached
that gentleman the manageress said
ah ne connais pas
no he has left already
I’m so sorry Madame
c’est rien Madame she said,
telephonically
to my love.
As for me I was hanging around
in the station concourse
hiding behind the evening editions
and leering at the English schoolgirls
with their little knapsacks
taking on the colour
of the wall I leant against
or at night
in my sand-coloured mackintosh
lying deadbeat on the beach
waving at the little lights
of the boat for Dover.
What a pity sir
I thought you’d already left
we never saw you
not even at breakfast
please accept
our sincere apologies
Madame will certainly be cross and
the weather has been dreadful this summer.
Invisible I thought
I’m invisible
and in a lethal gust of joy I merged
with the flowery tub chair in the corridor
with the ashen cobblestones in the church square
with the racing cyclists that rainy Sunday
with the seashell doll in the souvenir shop
and with my sweetheart
who so as not to be on the safe side
arrived after all.
© Translation: 2007, Donald Gardner
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, 2007
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, 2007
ONZICHTBAAR
ONZICHTBAAR
Ach in Oostendewas het zo mooi
in het kleine hotel
in de regen.
Onbereikbaar was ik
die meneer zei de hotelhoudster
ah nee connais pas
nee die is al vertrokken
’t is spijtig madame
c’est rien madame, telefonisch
tegen mijn geliefde.
Terwijl ik stond
in de hal van het station
verborgen achter het laatste nieuws
en gluurde naar de Engelse schoolmeisjes
met hun kleine knapzak
de schutkleur aannam
van de muur waartegen ik leunde
of ’s nachts
in mijn zandkleurige regenjas
uitgeteld op het strand lag
zwaaiend naar de lichtjes
van de boot op Dover.
Ach meneer
ik dacht u was al vertrokken
we zagen u nooit
ook niet bij het ontbijt
wil ons toch vergeven
madame zal wel boos zijn en
het seizoen is al zo slecht.
Onzichtbaar dacht ik
ik ben onzichtbaar
en in een dodelijke vreugde werd één
met de gebloemde crapaud in de hotelgang
met de grauwe kasseien op het kerkplein
met de wielrenners op de verregende feestdag
met het poppetje van schelpen in de souvenirzaak
en met mijn geliefde
die voor het zekere het onzekere nam
en kwam.
© 1995, Remco Campert
From: Dichter
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
From: Dichter
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Remco Campert
Close
INVISIBLE
Oh how beautifulit was in Ostend
in that little hotel
in the rain.
I couldn’t be reached
that gentleman the manageress said
ah ne connais pas
no he has left already
I’m so sorry Madame
c’est rien Madame she said,
telephonically
to my love.
As for me I was hanging around
in the station concourse
hiding behind the evening editions
and leering at the English schoolgirls
with their little knapsacks
taking on the colour
of the wall I leant against
or at night
in my sand-coloured mackintosh
lying deadbeat on the beach
waving at the little lights
of the boat for Dover.
What a pity sir
I thought you’d already left
we never saw you
not even at breakfast
please accept
our sincere apologies
Madame will certainly be cross and
the weather has been dreadful this summer.
Invisible I thought
I’m invisible
and in a lethal gust of joy I merged
with the flowery tub chair in the corridor
with the ashen cobblestones in the church square
with the racing cyclists that rainy Sunday
with the seashell doll in the souvenir shop
and with my sweetheart
who so as not to be on the safe side
arrived after all.
© 2007, Donald Gardner
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: 2007, Arc Publications, Todmorden
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: 2007, Arc Publications, Todmorden
INVISIBLE
Oh how beautifulit was in Ostend
in that little hotel
in the rain.
I couldn’t be reached
that gentleman the manageress said
ah ne connais pas
no he has left already
I’m so sorry Madame
c’est rien Madame she said,
telephonically
to my love.
As for me I was hanging around
in the station concourse
hiding behind the evening editions
and leering at the English schoolgirls
with their little knapsacks
taking on the colour
of the wall I leant against
or at night
in my sand-coloured mackintosh
lying deadbeat on the beach
waving at the little lights
of the boat for Dover.
What a pity sir
I thought you’d already left
we never saw you
not even at breakfast
please accept
our sincere apologies
Madame will certainly be cross and
the weather has been dreadful this summer.
Invisible I thought
I’m invisible
and in a lethal gust of joy I merged
with the flowery tub chair in the corridor
with the ashen cobblestones in the church square
with the racing cyclists that rainy Sunday
with the seashell doll in the souvenir shop
and with my sweetheart
who so as not to be on the safe side
arrived after all.
© 2007, Donald Gardner
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: 2007, Arc Publications, Todmorden
From: I Dreamed in the Cities at Night
Publisher: 2007, Arc Publications, Todmorden
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