Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Emmanuel Moses

TOWARDS BUXTEHUDE

He kept walking
between the poplars and the tarmac
went by farms fields
power stations
cars passed him
black inside
one rainy night he put his foot on something
crunchy and soft:
a run-over hedgehog
thrown by the violence of the impact
onto the road’s shoulder
it had begun to snow very early that year
but that didn’t discourage him
slowed him down a bit at most
he would sing a psalm or canticle
and had the impression
that a fur shawl
had been wrapped around his shoulders
the innkeepers
unused to seeing clients arrive
at that time of year
made him welcome
he would have a meat pie and a piece of fruit for dinner
sleep in plushy beds
all for a few coins
then would depart again at dawn
across the sleeping white-roofed villages
having forgotten for quite a while
the music that had set him
on this road

NAAR BUXTEHUDE

Hij liep
tussen de populieren en het asfalt
kwam langs boerderijen velden
elektriciteitscentrales
auto’s donker van binnen
schoten voorbij
op een avond dat het regende had hij op iets getrapt
iets bros en weeks:
een overreden egel
door de harde klap
was hij in de berm beland
het was dat jaar al vroeg gaan sneeuwen
maar dat had hem niet ontmoedigd
hooguit zijn tempo wat vertraagd
hij zong een psalm of een geestelijk lied
en had het gevoel
dat er een bontkraag
om zijn schouders lag
de herbergiers
die niet meteen klanten verwachtten
in die tijd van het jaar
ontvingen hem hartelijk
zijn avondmaal bestond uit een stuk vleespastei en een vrucht
hij sliep in zachte bedden
dat alles voor een habbekrats
en ging voor dag en dauw weer verder
door dommelende dorpjes met witte daken
intussen was hij de muziek
waarvoor hij de reis had ondernomen
allang vergeten

VERS BUXTEHUDE

Il marchait
entre les peupliers et l’asphalte
passait devant des fermes des champs
des centrales électriques
les automobiles filaient
noires à l’intérieur
un soir de pluie il avait mis le pied sur quelque chose
de craquant et mou :
un hérisson écrasé
que la violence du choc avait rejeté
sur le bas-côté
la neige était tombée très tôt cette année-là
mais elle ne l’avait pas découragé
tout au plus ralenti ses pas
il chantait un psaume ou un cantique
et avait l’impression
qu’un colleret de fourrure
s’enroulait autour de ses épaules
les aubergistes
peu habitués à voir arriver des clients
à cette période
lui faisaient bon accueil
il dînait d’une tourte et d’un fruit
couchait dans des lits moelleux
le tout pour quelques pièces
puis il repartait à l’aube
à travers les villages endormis aux toits blancs
ayant oublié depuis longtemps
la musique pour laquelle
il avait pris la route 
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TOWARDS BUXTEHUDE

He kept walking
between the poplars and the tarmac
went by farms fields
power stations
cars passed him
black inside
one rainy night he put his foot on something
crunchy and soft:
a run-over hedgehog
thrown by the violence of the impact
onto the road’s shoulder
it had begun to snow very early that year
but that didn’t discourage him
slowed him down a bit at most
he would sing a psalm or canticle
and had the impression
that a fur shawl
had been wrapped around his shoulders
the innkeepers
unused to seeing clients arrive
at that time of year
made him welcome
he would have a meat pie and a piece of fruit for dinner
sleep in plushy beds
all for a few coins
then would depart again at dawn
across the sleeping white-roofed villages
having forgotten for quite a while
the music that had set him
on this road

TOWARDS BUXTEHUDE

He kept walking
between the poplars and the tarmac
went by farms fields
power stations
cars passed him
black inside
one rainy night he put his foot on something
crunchy and soft:
a run-over hedgehog
thrown by the violence of the impact
onto the road’s shoulder
it had begun to snow very early that year
but that didn’t discourage him
slowed him down a bit at most
he would sing a psalm or canticle
and had the impression
that a fur shawl
had been wrapped around his shoulders
the innkeepers
unused to seeing clients arrive
at that time of year
made him welcome
he would have a meat pie and a piece of fruit for dinner
sleep in plushy beds
all for a few coins
then would depart again at dawn
across the sleeping white-roofed villages
having forgotten for quite a while
the music that had set him
on this road
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère