Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Gaston Burssens

Proverb

The electronic eye now aims
at every movement.
Its beam which should be purple
shines green on my face.

Purple and green are as poisonous as the questions:
what used to stop me from sleeping?
Why are my temples greyer
and wiser?

I know the beam pierces my field of vision
as if my eyes
must search implicitly the wisdom in certain things,
that drip from the rain in the drop of stars
– when one must either pump or drown –
close to the electronic eye of the needle
through which my camel will soon have to pass.

Spreekwoord

Spreekwoord

Op iedere beweging
is thans een elektronisch oog gericht.
Zijn onzichtbare straal die paars moet wezen
schijnt groen op mijn gezicht. 

Want paars en groen zijn giftig als de vragen:
wat heeft mij vroeger het slapen belet?
Waarom werden mijn slapen grijzer
en wijzer? 

Nu weet ik de straal in mijn gezichtsveld dringen
alsof mijn ogen onbepaald
de wijsheid moesten zoeken in bepaalde dingen,
die van de regen in de drup der sterren druipen
– waarbij men òf moet pompen òf verzuipen –
vlak bij het elektronisch oog der naald
waar straks mijn kemel door moet kruipen.
Close

Proverb

The electronic eye now aims
at every movement.
Its beam which should be purple
shines green on my face.

Purple and green are as poisonous as the questions:
what used to stop me from sleeping?
Why are my temples greyer
and wiser?

I know the beam pierces my field of vision
as if my eyes
must search implicitly the wisdom in certain things,
that drip from the rain in the drop of stars
– when one must either pump or drown –
close to the electronic eye of the needle
through which my camel will soon have to pass.

Proverb

The electronic eye now aims
at every movement.
Its beam which should be purple
shines green on my face.

Purple and green are as poisonous as the questions:
what used to stop me from sleeping?
Why are my temples greyer
and wiser?

I know the beam pierces my field of vision
as if my eyes
must search implicitly the wisdom in certain things,
that drip from the rain in the drop of stars
– when one must either pump or drown –
close to the electronic eye of the needle
through which my camel will soon have to pass.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
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