Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Andrea Cote

FEAR

Mother,
gather for me the sound of the rain on grandfather’s roof
tell me about the night when I discovered the thirst for the cliffs
and about how you detached the fire of the light
to allow our meeting with our first demons.
Remember our eternal stay in the nooks of the house
when grey afternoons still rained on the sand
and the moldy rain came with April
and I was not yet afraid.

MIEDO

MIEDO

Madre,
recógeme el sonido de la lluvia en el tejado del abuelo
cuéntame de las noches en que descubrí la sed por los acantilados
y de cómo desprendiste el fuego de la luz
para permitirnos en encuentro con nuestros primeros demonios.
Recuerda nuestra estancia eterna en los rincones de la casa
cuando aún llovían tardes grises en al arena
y la lluvia mohosa venía con abril
y todavía no tenía miedo.
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FEAR

Mother,
gather for me the sound of the rain on grandfather’s roof
tell me about the night when I discovered the thirst for the cliffs
and about how you detached the fire of the light
to allow our meeting with our first demons.
Remember our eternal stay in the nooks of the house
when grey afternoons still rained on the sand
and the moldy rain came with April
and I was not yet afraid.

FEAR

Mother,
gather for me the sound of the rain on grandfather’s roof
tell me about the night when I discovered the thirst for the cliffs
and about how you detached the fire of the light
to allow our meeting with our first demons.
Remember our eternal stay in the nooks of the house
when grey afternoons still rained on the sand
and the moldy rain came with April
and I was not yet afraid.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère