Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Anna Enquist

FROM DELFT

If light falls here, it's under a sky
of lead, false glow, late in the day.

Wish I could take the city, set myself up
in the stone circle in the marketplace, and drink

the blooded shadow of town hall
Get your head examined. I pound on the walls;

they go up in dust like ash in a stove in the morning,
as if I exist. Out of the canals rises

a wall of caustic water. Here's where it was,
here's where I sighed for the open polder and fell against

an icy structure. Here's where you trade the trip
for the tight home corner.

UIT DELFT

UIT DELFT

Als hier licht valt, dan onder loden
lucht, valse gloed in de namiddag.

Kon ik de stad innemen, mij stellen
in de stenen cirkel op de markt, drinkend

de bloedige schaduw van het stadhuis –
Laat naar je kijken. Ik bonk op de muren,

zij verstuiven als ochtendas in de kachel,
of ik er ben. Uit de grachten rijst

een wal van zuur water. Hier was het,
hier zuchtte ik om de polder, viel ik

tegen ijzig bouwwerk. Hier ruilt men
de reis tegen een enge thuiskomst.
Close

FROM DELFT

If light falls here, it's under a sky
of lead, false glow, late in the day.

Wish I could take the city, set myself up
in the stone circle in the marketplace, and drink

the blooded shadow of town hall
Get your head examined. I pound on the walls;

they go up in dust like ash in a stove in the morning,
as if I exist. Out of the canals rises

a wall of caustic water. Here's where it was,
here's where I sighed for the open polder and fell against

an icy structure. Here's where you trade the trip
for the tight home corner.

FROM DELFT

If light falls here, it's under a sky
of lead, false glow, late in the day.

Wish I could take the city, set myself up
in the stone circle in the marketplace, and drink

the blooded shadow of town hall
Get your head examined. I pound on the walls;

they go up in dust like ash in a stove in the morning,
as if I exist. Out of the canals rises

a wall of caustic water. Here's where it was,
here's where I sighed for the open polder and fell against

an icy structure. Here's where you trade the trip
for the tight home corner.
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