Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

K. Schippers

E55

Split scenes without hidden meanings . . .
now we’re here, why not check your jacket,
straighten it a little more
or shift a shoe, I’ll wait a minute . . .
you haven’t changed that much . . .

so many flags . . . you could smooth down the dress
a little better over your knees . . . that’s right,
go ahead. . .

all those passers-by,  I have seen
thousands of them . . . I will be there,
so will you, I think, some people

should be passing each other,
an appointment won’t be
necessary . . . just leave the rest
to the gentleman of chance,

a duke whose face you’ll never
see, who in a squinting tongue
became adept at us,

a pianist with a plaster round
her little finger, ticket sales, paper,
hands water heel gate passage, milk
in a carton, did you think about that

for the first time then and there,
E55 energy . . . was it absorbed into
your thoughts, did my call wake you,
shall I turn the light off?

I went there do not remember
anything about it like you’re here now
not yet aware of what you may or
may not recall about this evening.
You were there you’ll say. That’s right,

but on that day in 1955 my memories
did not come well prepared.
Something just happened, walking and

watching, nothing more and why would you
remember that?

E55

E55

Losse scènes zonder bijbedoelingen . . .
anders kijkt u in deze zaal eerst
naar uw jasje, schik het iets beter 
of verplaats een schoen, ik wacht 
wel even . . . u bent weinig veranderd . . .
 
wat een vlaggen . . . de jurk op uw knie 
kan iets beter liggen . . . doe het nou 
maar . . . 
 
al die voorbijgangers, duizenden 
heb ik er gezien . . . ik zal er 
zijn, u ook, denk ik, een paar mensen 
 
moeten elkaar toch voorbijlopen, 
geen afspraak hoef je er voor te 
maken . . . en laat het verder over 
aan de edelman van het toeval, 
 
een hertog van wie je het gezicht 
nooit ziet, die zich met een loense 
tongval in ons heeft bekwaamd, 
 
een pianiste met een pleister om 
haar pink, kaartverkoop, papier,  
handen water hak hek gang, melk 
in een kartonnen pak, dacht je 
 
daar toen voor het eerst aan, 
E55 energie . . . gaat het op in je 
gedachten, bel ik je wakker, zal 
ik het licht uitdoen? 
 
Ik ben er geweest herinner me er 
niets meer van zoals u nu hier bent 
en nog niet weet wat u zich al dan 
niet van deze avond zal herinneren. 
Je was er toch zult u zeggen. Ja 
 
maar op die dag in 1955 kon ik m’n 
herinnering niet goed voorbereiden. 
Er gebeurde zomaar wat, lopen en 
 
kijken, meer niet en waarom zou 
je dat onthouden?
Close

E55

Split scenes without hidden meanings . . .
now we’re here, why not check your jacket,
straighten it a little more
or shift a shoe, I’ll wait a minute . . .
you haven’t changed that much . . .

so many flags . . . you could smooth down the dress
a little better over your knees . . . that’s right,
go ahead. . .

all those passers-by,  I have seen
thousands of them . . . I will be there,
so will you, I think, some people

should be passing each other,
an appointment won’t be
necessary . . . just leave the rest
to the gentleman of chance,

a duke whose face you’ll never
see, who in a squinting tongue
became adept at us,

a pianist with a plaster round
her little finger, ticket sales, paper,
hands water heel gate passage, milk
in a carton, did you think about that

for the first time then and there,
E55 energy . . . was it absorbed into
your thoughts, did my call wake you,
shall I turn the light off?

I went there do not remember
anything about it like you’re here now
not yet aware of what you may or
may not recall about this evening.
You were there you’ll say. That’s right,

but on that day in 1955 my memories
did not come well prepared.
Something just happened, walking and

watching, nothing more and why would you
remember that?

E55

Split scenes without hidden meanings . . .
now we’re here, why not check your jacket,
straighten it a little more
or shift a shoe, I’ll wait a minute . . .
you haven’t changed that much . . .

so many flags . . . you could smooth down the dress
a little better over your knees . . . that’s right,
go ahead. . .

all those passers-by,  I have seen
thousands of them . . . I will be there,
so will you, I think, some people

should be passing each other,
an appointment won’t be
necessary . . . just leave the rest
to the gentleman of chance,

a duke whose face you’ll never
see, who in a squinting tongue
became adept at us,

a pianist with a plaster round
her little finger, ticket sales, paper,
hands water heel gate passage, milk
in a carton, did you think about that

for the first time then and there,
E55 energy . . . was it absorbed into
your thoughts, did my call wake you,
shall I turn the light off?

I went there do not remember
anything about it like you’re here now
not yet aware of what you may or
may not recall about this evening.
You were there you’ll say. That’s right,

but on that day in 1955 my memories
did not come well prepared.
Something just happened, walking and

watching, nothing more and why would you
remember that?
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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
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