Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Lucebert

JAMES TURRELL

the artist made seamless spaces
in the stedelijk museum of amsterdam
spaces turned away from all shadow
and from the clamour of all body
I knew that here a smith of light became
the servant of my eyes because I saw
as if for the first time myself and I saw
in the quiet of a waterfall in the distance
me made to transport light like
a river back to the sun

this light smith he came from afar
and I have never met him

yet in my thoughts I flew together
with my friends who had been cajoled
into flying along with jim in his small plane
above the dead wounds of an old country
and over the malice-flesh and the crave-swelling
of new exploitation regions there in the american west

and I saw with them the sun go down and all hope
of still more gold and blood gloriously depart
saw that the moon again grew large
and thought: she is once again in the mood
with down there that adult child
chosen to give a countenance to mists

when we descended into the crater of jim’s volcano
for that is his house
while the stars all simultaneously jumped up in the cockpit
I briefly dreamed that I was half nothing half cat
who just like the universe
is satisfied to play with its own tail

JAMES TURRELL

JAMES TURRELL

de kunstenaar maakte naadloze ruimten
in het museum van amsterdam
ruimten afgewend van alle schaduw
en van het misbaar van alle lichaam
ik wist hier werd een smid van het licht
de dienaar van mijn ogen want ik zag
als voor het eerst mijzelf en ik zag
in de stilte van een waterval in de verte
mijzelf gemaakt om het licht als rivier
terug te dragen naar de zon

deze lichtsmid hij kwam van ver
en ik heb hem nooit ontmoet

toch ben ik in gedachte meegevlogen
met mijn vrienden die door jim
in zijn klein vliegtuig werden meegetroond
boven de doodwonden van een oud land
en over het nijdvlees en het zuchtgezwel
van nieuwe wingewesten daar in het amerikaanse westen

en ik zag met hen de zon zinken en alle hoop
op nog meer goud en bloed glorieus vervliegen
zag dat de maan weer groeide
en dacht: zij heeft er weer zin in
met daar beneden dat volwassen kind
uitverkoren om aan nevels een gelaat te geven

toen wij daalden in de krater van jim’s vulkaan
want dat is zijn huis
terwijl de sterren allen tegelijk opsprongen in de cockpit
droomde ik even dat ik was half niets half poes
die net als het universum
genoeg heeft aan het spelen met de eigen staart
Close

JAMES TURRELL

the artist made seamless spaces
in the stedelijk museum of amsterdam
spaces turned away from all shadow
and from the clamour of all body
I knew that here a smith of light became
the servant of my eyes because I saw
as if for the first time myself and I saw
in the quiet of a waterfall in the distance
me made to transport light like
a river back to the sun

this light smith he came from afar
and I have never met him

yet in my thoughts I flew together
with my friends who had been cajoled
into flying along with jim in his small plane
above the dead wounds of an old country
and over the malice-flesh and the crave-swelling
of new exploitation regions there in the american west

and I saw with them the sun go down and all hope
of still more gold and blood gloriously depart
saw that the moon again grew large
and thought: she is once again in the mood
with down there that adult child
chosen to give a countenance to mists

when we descended into the crater of jim’s volcano
for that is his house
while the stars all simultaneously jumped up in the cockpit
I briefly dreamed that I was half nothing half cat
who just like the universe
is satisfied to play with its own tail

JAMES TURRELL

the artist made seamless spaces
in the stedelijk museum of amsterdam
spaces turned away from all shadow
and from the clamour of all body
I knew that here a smith of light became
the servant of my eyes because I saw
as if for the first time myself and I saw
in the quiet of a waterfall in the distance
me made to transport light like
a river back to the sun

this light smith he came from afar
and I have never met him

yet in my thoughts I flew together
with my friends who had been cajoled
into flying along with jim in his small plane
above the dead wounds of an old country
and over the malice-flesh and the crave-swelling
of new exploitation regions there in the american west

and I saw with them the sun go down and all hope
of still more gold and blood gloriously depart
saw that the moon again grew large
and thought: she is once again in the mood
with down there that adult child
chosen to give a countenance to mists

when we descended into the crater of jim’s volcano
for that is his house
while the stars all simultaneously jumped up in the cockpit
I briefly dreamed that I was half nothing half cat
who just like the universe
is satisfied to play with its own tail
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère