Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Umberto Fiori

Excavation

High up the cranes swing round
and down below there’s a criss-cross
traffic of sirens
but this hole
they’re making in the midst of houses
is like those dried-up streams in the country,
dead still.

The building site,
all of it now on view
from above, from the sixth, the seventh floor,
is a large extinct crater.
It’s frightening to see how much light,
how much wind it holds.

For months and months in this huge theatre
the shouting of measurements will be heard.
Then the whole emptiness on view
will have been covered in concrete and glass
and on some tiny balcony – someone still wanting to watch –
a towel will be flapping.

BOUWPUT

Hefkranen zwieren door de lucht
en op de grond krioelen de sirenes,
maar deze bouwput
die ze tussen de huizen graven
is net de drooggevallen bedding van een
rivier.

Het bouwterrein is
in zijn geheel gezien
vanaf de zesde, zevende verdieping
net een grote uitgewerkte krater.
’t Is angstwekkend om te zien hoeveel licht,
hoeveel wind hij bevat.

Maandenlang zal men in dit oneindige theater
de afmetingen horen brullen.
Daarna zullen cement en glas
de leegte van het podium bedekken,
en aan het hek van een balkon – wie wil er nu nog kijken? –
zal een handdoek wapperen.

SCAVO

In alto girano le gru
e sotto è un viavai di sirene,
ma questo scavo
che fanno in mezzo alle case
sembra in campagna quei torrenti asciutti,
fermi.

Ora il terreno
visto tutto intero
da su, dal sesto, dal settimo piano,
è un grande cratere spento.
Fa paura vedere quanta luce,
quanto vento contiene.

Per mesi e mesi in questo teatro immenso
si sentiranno urlare le misure.
Poi tutto il vuoto della scena
cemento e vetro l’avranno coperto
e a un terrazzino – chi vorrà ancora guardare –
sventolerà un asciugamano.
Close

Excavation

High up the cranes swing round
and down below there’s a criss-cross
traffic of sirens
but this hole
they’re making in the midst of houses
is like those dried-up streams in the country,
dead still.

The building site,
all of it now on view
from above, from the sixth, the seventh floor,
is a large extinct crater.
It’s frightening to see how much light,
how much wind it holds.

For months and months in this huge theatre
the shouting of measurements will be heard.
Then the whole emptiness on view
will have been covered in concrete and glass
and on some tiny balcony – someone still wanting to watch –
a towel will be flapping.

Excavation

High up the cranes swing round
and down below there’s a criss-cross
traffic of sirens
but this hole
they’re making in the midst of houses
is like those dried-up streams in the country,
dead still.

The building site,
all of it now on view
from above, from the sixth, the seventh floor,
is a large extinct crater.
It’s frightening to see how much light,
how much wind it holds.

For months and months in this huge theatre
the shouting of measurements will be heard.
Then the whole emptiness on view
will have been covered in concrete and glass
and on some tiny balcony – someone still wanting to watch –
a towel will be flapping.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère