Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mangalesh Dabral

Grandfather\'s Photograph

Grandfather wasn’t fond of being photographed
or didn’t find time perhaps
There’s just one picture of him
hanging on an old discolored wall
He sits serious and composed
like a cloud heavy with water
All we know of Grandfather is
that he gave alms to beggars
tossed restlessly in sleep
and made his bed neatly every morning
I was just a kid then
and never saw his anger or
his ordinariness
Pictures never show someone’s helpless side
Mother used to tell us that
when we fell asleep surrounded
by strange creatures of the night
Grandfather would stay awake inside the picture
I didn’t grow as tall as Grandfather
not as composed or as serious
Still something in me resembles him
An anger like his
an ordinariness
I too walk with my head bent down
and every day see myself
sitting in an empty
picture frame.

GROOTVADER’S FOTO

Grootvader vond het niet leuk om zijn foto te laten nemen
of hij vond de tijd er niet voor
Van hem hangt er maar een foto op de vuile, oude muur
Hij zit rustig en ernstig
als een wolk vol water

Over grootvader weet ik alleen
dat hij bedelaars aalmoezen gaf
zich altijd rusteloos omdraaide in zijn slaap
en ’s ochtends bij het opstaan
de plooien in het bed rechttrok
Ik was toen heel klein
Ik zag hem nooit boos
zag zijn middelmatigheid niet
Foto’s verhalen niet van iemands onmacht
Moeder zegt dat wanneer wij
slapen, omringd door vreemde nachtwezens
grootvader op deze foto wakker blijft

Ik ben niet zo lang geworden als mijn grootvader
rustig en ernstig ben ik niet geworden
maar er is iets in mij, hem gelijk
diezelfde boosheid, diezelfde middelmatigheid
Ook ik loop met het hoofd gebogen
leef terwijl ik mezelf zie zitten
in een leeg fotolijstje

Close

Grandfather\'s Photograph

Grandfather wasn’t fond of being photographed
or didn’t find time perhaps
There’s just one picture of him
hanging on an old discolored wall
He sits serious and composed
like a cloud heavy with water
All we know of Grandfather is
that he gave alms to beggars
tossed restlessly in sleep
and made his bed neatly every morning
I was just a kid then
and never saw his anger or
his ordinariness
Pictures never show someone’s helpless side
Mother used to tell us that
when we fell asleep surrounded
by strange creatures of the night
Grandfather would stay awake inside the picture
I didn’t grow as tall as Grandfather
not as composed or as serious
Still something in me resembles him
An anger like his
an ordinariness
I too walk with my head bent down
and every day see myself
sitting in an empty
picture frame.

Grandfather\'s Photograph

Grandfather wasn’t fond of being photographed
or didn’t find time perhaps
There’s just one picture of him
hanging on an old discolored wall
He sits serious and composed
like a cloud heavy with water
All we know of Grandfather is
that he gave alms to beggars
tossed restlessly in sleep
and made his bed neatly every morning
I was just a kid then
and never saw his anger or
his ordinariness
Pictures never show someone’s helpless side
Mother used to tell us that
when we fell asleep surrounded
by strange creatures of the night
Grandfather would stay awake inside the picture
I didn’t grow as tall as Grandfather
not as composed or as serious
Still something in me resembles him
An anger like his
an ordinariness
I too walk with my head bent down
and every day see myself
sitting in an empty
picture frame.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère