Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rati Amaghlobeli

I want your hand to be placed on my heart . . .

I want your hand to be placed on my heart, and come,
I want the palm of your hand on my heart, for it to be placed on me.
Before you come I shall light a fire and I shall await
Your coming patiently. I want the big fire

To be alight all night, and voices in the silence of this fire
To be heard only as we once heard the sound of the sea,
For your shoulder, hand, arm to be put on my heart,
And for the fire to be alight.

Let it snow outside, let’s not remember anyone outside.
Let the town fall into a heavy sleep, let the town sleep,
Let fathers, brothers sleep sweetly and bitterly.
Let every place, space and area be covered in white snow.

Let factories, stations, the airport sleep in peace,
Let the sky too rest in sleep, let there be no flying,
Let the yard dogs, the tramp, the bird on the wire
Be overcome by slumber, let everything surrender to slow

Sleep and peace. But let me hold your weak
And white hand the whole night and have it on my heart.
Let for a moment an unknown god stop by our windows,
And let us too go to sleep, but let the fire stay alight.

Ik droom dat je hand op mijn hart rust

Ik droom dat je hand op mijn hart rust,
ik steek het vuur aan voor het uur
van je komst en droom dat je handpalm op mijn hart rust,
ik wacht vol geduld op je, ik droom dat het vuur

de hele nacht brandt en in de stilte
enkel de stem van het vuur weerklinkt,
zoals ooit het geluid van de zilte
zee, ik droom dat je hand op mijn hart rust

en het vuur brandt, dat het sneeuwt en we aan niemand denken,
dat de stad een diepe slaap slaapt, de slaap van een eeuw.
Ik droom dat de vaders en de broers bitterzoet slapen,
dat elke plek langzaam wit ondersneeuwt.

Ik droom dat fabrieken, stations en luchthavens zacht slapen,
geen enkele vlucht de hemel verstoort, geen hond blaft,
ik droom dat een vogel op de telefoondraden
sluimert, dat alles in een diepe en rustige slaap ongestraft

verzinkt. En ik droom dat je tere en witte hand
in mijn hand en op mijn hart rust, ik droom
dat de onbekende God een secondelang stilstaat voor ons raam
ik droom dat ook wij inslapen en het vuur brandt.

Close

I want your hand to be placed on my heart . . .

I want your hand to be placed on my heart, and come,
I want the palm of your hand on my heart, for it to be placed on me.
Before you come I shall light a fire and I shall await
Your coming patiently. I want the big fire

To be alight all night, and voices in the silence of this fire
To be heard only as we once heard the sound of the sea,
For your shoulder, hand, arm to be put on my heart,
And for the fire to be alight.

Let it snow outside, let’s not remember anyone outside.
Let the town fall into a heavy sleep, let the town sleep,
Let fathers, brothers sleep sweetly and bitterly.
Let every place, space and area be covered in white snow.

Let factories, stations, the airport sleep in peace,
Let the sky too rest in sleep, let there be no flying,
Let the yard dogs, the tramp, the bird on the wire
Be overcome by slumber, let everything surrender to slow

Sleep and peace. But let me hold your weak
And white hand the whole night and have it on my heart.
Let for a moment an unknown god stop by our windows,
And let us too go to sleep, but let the fire stay alight.

I want your hand to be placed on my heart . . .

I want your hand to be placed on my heart, and come,
I want the palm of your hand on my heart, for it to be placed on me.
Before you come I shall light a fire and I shall await
Your coming patiently. I want the big fire

To be alight all night, and voices in the silence of this fire
To be heard only as we once heard the sound of the sea,
For your shoulder, hand, arm to be put on my heart,
And for the fire to be alight.

Let it snow outside, let’s not remember anyone outside.
Let the town fall into a heavy sleep, let the town sleep,
Let fathers, brothers sleep sweetly and bitterly.
Let every place, space and area be covered in white snow.

Let factories, stations, the airport sleep in peace,
Let the sky too rest in sleep, let there be no flying,
Let the yard dogs, the tramp, the bird on the wire
Be overcome by slumber, let everything surrender to slow

Sleep and peace. But let me hold your weak
And white hand the whole night and have it on my heart.
Let for a moment an unknown god stop by our windows,
And let us too go to sleep, but let the fire stay alight.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère