Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Seamus Heaney

ANAHORISH 1944

ANAHORISH 1944

‘We slachtten varkens toen de Amerikanen kwamen.
Een dinsdagochtend, zonlicht en rioolbloed
Buiten het slachthuis. Vanaf de hoofdweg
Kon je het krijsen horen.
Horen hoe het stopte en we onszelf zagen
De heuvel afkomen met handschoenen en schorten.
Twee rijen, geweren over hun schouders, marcherend.
Gepantserde auto’s en tanks en open jeeps.
Gebruinde handen en armen. Onbekend, naamloos,
Op weg naar Normandië.
              Niet dat we toen wisten
Waar ze naartoe gingen, jong als we waren,
Terwijl ze ons kauwgom en gekleurde snoepjes toewierpen.’

ANAHORISH 1944

‘We were killing pigs when the Americans arrived.
A Tuesday morning, sunlight and gutter-blood
Outside the slaughterhouse. From the main road
They would have heard the squealing,
Then heard it stop and had a view of us
In our gloves and aprons coming down the hill.
Two lines of them, guns on their shoulders, marching.
Armoured cars and tanks and open jeeps.
Sunburnt hands and arms. Unknown, unnamed,
Hosting for Normandy.
              Not that we knew then
Where they were headed, standing there like youngsters
As they tossed us gum and tubes of coloured sweets.’
Close

ANAHORISH 1944

‘We were killing pigs when the Americans arrived.
A Tuesday morning, sunlight and gutter-blood
Outside the slaughterhouse. From the main road
They would have heard the squealing,
Then heard it stop and had a view of us
In our gloves and aprons coming down the hill.
Two lines of them, guns on their shoulders, marching.
Armoured cars and tanks and open jeeps.
Sunburnt hands and arms. Unknown, unnamed,
Hosting for Normandy.
              Not that we knew then
Where they were headed, standing there like youngsters
As they tossed us gum and tubes of coloured sweets.’

ANAHORISH 1944

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