Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ayana Erdal

The disasters happened when we didn’t notice


The disasters happened when we didn’t notice,
persimmons blackened on the trees
and your hand looked more tired than ever,
as if it had already held everything.
 
You listened carefully to music as to people talking
and hung the laundry just as slowly,
and the sublime lessons of flesh and blood
that others learned but we did not.
We learned how to climb stairs with a baby in one’s arms
and how to shop with less money
and pile rage upon rage.
 
We didn’t know about isolation,
we didn’t lock doors,
and the secrets that moved us from one room to another
allowed us to remain lovers.
 
 

The disasters happened when we didn’t notice

 
הָאֲסוֹנוֹת קָרוּ כְּשֶׁלֹּא הִבְחַנּוּ בָּהֶם,
הַאֲפַרְסְמוֹנִים כָּהּו עַל הָעֵצִים
וְיָדְךָ נִרְאֲתָה לִי עֲיֵפָה מִתָּמִיד
כְּאִלּוּ אַחֲזָה כְּבָר בְּכָל דָּבָר.
 
הִקְשַׁבְתָּ בִּתְשׂוּמֶת-לֵב לַמּוּזִיקָה כְּמוֹ לְדִבְרֵי הָאֲנָשִׁים
וּבְאוֹתָהּ אִטִּיּוּת תָּלִית כְּבִיסָה,
וְהַלְּקָחִים הַנִּשְׂגָּבִים שֶׁל דָּם וּבָשָׂר
שֶׁהָיוּ לַאֲחֵרִים וְלֹא לָנוּ,
אֲנַחְנוּ לָמַדְנוּ אֵיךְ עוֹלִים בַּמַּדְרֵגוֹת עִם תִּינוֹק עַל הַיָּדַיִם
וְאֵיךְ עוֹשִׂים קְנִיּוֹת בְּפָחוֹת כֶּסֶף
וּמַעֲמִיסִים זַעַף עַל זָעַף.
 
בְּדִידוּת הָיְתָה דָּבָר שֶׁלֹּא הִכַּרְנוּ,
וְלֹא הָיִינוּ מְגִיפִים אֶת הַדְּלָתוֹת
וְהַסּוֹדוֹת שֶׁאִפְשְׁרוּ לָנוּ לַעֲבֹר מֵחֶדֶר לְחֶדֶר
הֵם שֶׁהִשְׁאִירוּ אוֹתָנוּ נֶאֱהָבִים.
 
 
Close

The disasters happened when we didn’t notice


The disasters happened when we didn’t notice,
persimmons blackened on the trees
and your hand looked more tired than ever,
as if it had already held everything.
 
You listened carefully to music as to people talking
and hung the laundry just as slowly,
and the sublime lessons of flesh and blood
that others learned but we did not.
We learned how to climb stairs with a baby in one’s arms
and how to shop with less money
and pile rage upon rage.
 
We didn’t know about isolation,
we didn’t lock doors,
and the secrets that moved us from one room to another
allowed us to remain lovers.
 
 

The disasters happened when we didn’t notice


The disasters happened when we didn’t notice,
persimmons blackened on the trees
and your hand looked more tired than ever,
as if it had already held everything.
 
You listened carefully to music as to people talking
and hung the laundry just as slowly,
and the sublime lessons of flesh and blood
that others learned but we did not.
We learned how to climb stairs with a baby in one’s arms
and how to shop with less money
and pile rage upon rage.
 
We didn’t know about isolation,
we didn’t lock doors,
and the secrets that moved us from one room to another
allowed us to remain lovers.
 
 
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère