Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Miriam Van hee

THE MOON

a partying country that had no place for us
anymore, that’s how the moon
rose for us above the forest
like a scene in a russian painting and

if you looked carefully you could see our
continents, africa, australia and even
italy, although its boot had shrunk
and seemed to flap about like the coat

of someone who was in a hurry, or like a banner,
as if there could be wind there, on the moon,
autumn, a shower of rain, something that began
and then ended the way everything does here, with us

de maan

de maan

een feestend land waarin voor ons
geen plaats meer was, zo verrees
voor ons de maan boven het bos
als op een russisch schilderij en

keek je goed, dan zag je onze
werelddelen, afrika, australië en zelfs
italië, weliswaar met een gekrompen
laars die leek te wapperen, zoals de jas

van wie zich haast, of als een vaandel,
alsof daar wind was, op de maan
herfst, een regenbui, iets wat begon
en dan ophield zoals alles hier bij ons
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THE MOON

a partying country that had no place for us
anymore, that’s how the moon
rose for us above the forest
like a scene in a russian painting and

if you looked carefully you could see our
continents, africa, australia and even
italy, although its boot had shrunk
and seemed to flap about like the coat

of someone who was in a hurry, or like a banner,
as if there could be wind there, on the moon,
autumn, a shower of rain, something that began
and then ended the way everything does here, with us

THE MOON

a partying country that had no place for us
anymore, that’s how the moon
rose for us above the forest
like a scene in a russian painting and

if you looked carefully you could see our
continents, africa, australia and even
italy, although its boot had shrunk
and seemed to flap about like the coat

of someone who was in a hurry, or like a banner,
as if there could be wind there, on the moon,
autumn, a shower of rain, something that began
and then ended the way everything does here, with us
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Gemeente Rotterdam
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