Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Nico Bleutge

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly
on the roofs. the tiles expand their moss and the stone
takes on the curve of the hills. washed-out leaves

the grass lies flat on the slopes, narrow and soft
the road presses itself against the bank, which slopes gently down
its shadowy borders are pushing slowly backwards

into the palms of hands, at the little table only the metal threads
reach behind the knuckles, and the glassy stalks
of flowers, which make trails on the wax cover, fissures

from the under-arm to the gutters. only on the branches
do the fingers get a grasp, their coarse joints
give some grip to the bark and hatch again

what the wire loops reveal, rubbed off trunks
which the thumbnail goes to, the damp spots
on the railing, they grow warm under the finger whorls

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly

westseite, dämmerung, die schärfe der kanten hält sich nur kurz
auf den dächern. die ziegel weiten ihr moos und der stein
nimmt die wölbung der hügel an. ausgewaschene blätter

das gras liegt flach an den hängen, schmal und weich
drückt die straße gegen den damm, der leicht absinkt
seine schattigen ränder schieben sich langsam zurück

in die handflächen, hinter die knöchel am tischchen
reichen allein die metallfäden und die glasigen stempel
der blüten, die auf der wachsdecke spuren ziehen, kleine risse

vom unterarm bis an die rinnsteine. erst an den ästen
haken die finger sich ein, ihre rauhen gelenke
geben der borke ein wenig halt und stricheln nach

was die drahtschlaufen anzeigen, abgeriebene stämme
an die der daumennagel geht, die feuchten stellen
am geländer, unter den tastlinien werden sie warm
Close

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly
on the roofs. the tiles expand their moss and the stone
takes on the curve of the hills. washed-out leaves

the grass lies flat on the slopes, narrow and soft
the road presses itself against the bank, which slopes gently down
its shadowy borders are pushing slowly backwards

into the palms of hands, at the little table only the metal threads
reach behind the knuckles, and the glassy stalks
of flowers, which make trails on the wax cover, fissures

from the under-arm to the gutters. only on the branches
do the fingers get a grasp, their coarse joints
give some grip to the bark and hatch again

what the wire loops reveal, rubbed off trunks
which the thumbnail goes to, the damp spots
on the railing, they grow warm under the finger whorls

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly

west side, twilight, the sharpness of edges remains only briefly
on the roofs. the tiles expand their moss and the stone
takes on the curve of the hills. washed-out leaves

the grass lies flat on the slopes, narrow and soft
the road presses itself against the bank, which slopes gently down
its shadowy borders are pushing slowly backwards

into the palms of hands, at the little table only the metal threads
reach behind the knuckles, and the glassy stalks
of flowers, which make trails on the wax cover, fissures

from the under-arm to the gutters. only on the branches
do the fingers get a grasp, their coarse joints
give some grip to the bark and hatch again

what the wire loops reveal, rubbed off trunks
which the thumbnail goes to, the damp spots
on the railing, they grow warm under the finger whorls
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère