Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rogi Wieg

YOU

The problem with you is
that you’re dead,
that you can’t hear me
when I read this out, that you can’t
see what I see. But what
do you see then? How much insight
do you still have? For insight
is somehow a precondition for
something.

The problem with you is
not that great, it’s more 
the problem of me.
Being is not aesthetics, but a
presence. Aesthetics is being remembered, ethereal
and deaf you use yourself up in the sunlight,
someone who reads and is young,

without being present. Fare you
well, though the word ‘you’ in
this sentence is
quite alien to me.

JE

JE

Het probleem met je is
dat je dood bent,
dat je me niet hoort
als ik dit voorlees, dat je
niet ziet wat ik zie.
Maar wat zie je dan?
Hoeveel inzicht heb je nog?
Want inzicht is ergens
een voorwaarde voor iets.

Het probleem met je is
niet zo groot, het is meer
het probleem van mij.
Zijn is niet een esthetiek, maar een
aanwezigheid. Esthetisch is worden herdacht,
ijl en doof maak je jezelf op in het zonlicht,
iemand die leest en jong is,

zonder aanwezig te zijn. Het
ga je goed, al is het woord
‘je’ in deze zin mij
volstrekt onbekend.
Close

YOU

The problem with you is
that you’re dead,
that you can’t hear me
when I read this out, that you can’t
see what I see. But what
do you see then? How much insight
do you still have? For insight
is somehow a precondition for
something.

The problem with you is
not that great, it’s more 
the problem of me.
Being is not aesthetics, but a
presence. Aesthetics is being remembered, ethereal
and deaf you use yourself up in the sunlight,
someone who reads and is young,

without being present. Fare you
well, though the word ‘you’ in
this sentence is
quite alien to me.

YOU

The problem with you is
that you’re dead,
that you can’t hear me
when I read this out, that you can’t
see what I see. But what
do you see then? How much insight
do you still have? For insight
is somehow a precondition for
something.

The problem with you is
not that great, it’s more 
the problem of me.
Being is not aesthetics, but a
presence. Aesthetics is being remembered, ethereal
and deaf you use yourself up in the sunlight,
someone who reads and is young,

without being present. Fare you
well, though the word ‘you’ in
this sentence is
quite alien to me.
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