Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Eddy Van Vliet

The City

The city is covered with places you
took from me. Full of joint
footsteps, full of joint laughs.
They were sheltered by dreams and if need be
love grabbed the gun to protect them.

Tell my legs how to evade
what belonged to them.

Tell them. They refuse to believe
that the theatres have burned, restaurants
were hit by plagues, terraces vanished
into thin air, hotels closed,
the courtyard was demolished.

I bow my head and think
the rain will not hit me. Thus
I shall forget what was taken from me.

De Stad

De Stad

De stad is overstelpt door plekken die
je mij ontnam. Vol gemeenschappelijke
voetstappen, vol gemeenschappelijk lachen.
Zij werden door dromen beschut en desnoods
greep de liefde naar het geweer om hen te beschermen.

Vertel mijn benen hoe zij moeten
ontlopen wat hun toebehoorde.

Vertel het hun. Zij willen niet geloven
dat de theaters zijn afgebrand, in de restaurants
de pest is uitgebroken, de terrassen in de lucht
zijn opgegaan, de hotels werden gesloten,
de binnenplaats is afgebroken.

Zoals ik door het buigen van mijn hoofd
aan de regen denk te ontkomen,
zal ik vergeten wat mij is ontnomen.
Close

The City

The city is covered with places you
took from me. Full of joint
footsteps, full of joint laughs.
They were sheltered by dreams and if need be
love grabbed the gun to protect them.

Tell my legs how to evade
what belonged to them.

Tell them. They refuse to believe
that the theatres have burned, restaurants
were hit by plagues, terraces vanished
into thin air, hotels closed,
the courtyard was demolished.

I bow my head and think
the rain will not hit me. Thus
I shall forget what was taken from me.

The City

The city is covered with places you
took from me. Full of joint
footsteps, full of joint laughs.
They were sheltered by dreams and if need be
love grabbed the gun to protect them.

Tell my legs how to evade
what belonged to them.

Tell them. They refuse to believe
that the theatres have burned, restaurants
were hit by plagues, terraces vanished
into thin air, hotels closed,
the courtyard was demolished.

I bow my head and think
the rain will not hit me. Thus
I shall forget what was taken from me.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère