Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Uwe Kolbe

Museum Day in Sofia

The holiest parts of the poet float
in two jars in a dusty case,
fish-white in formaldehyde.
Yet sitting there, somehow my heart
beat hard in front of his; my brain
zoned out as his did long ago –  
till suddenly I was very old,
and very calm, and fine with death.

Museumstag in Sofia

Museumstag in Sofia

Das Heiligste des großen Dichters
wird aufbewahrt in einem Schrank:
Zwei Gläser, drinnen blaß Organe.
Wie mir das Herz schlug, als das seine
im Glas vor mir stand und wie
das meine ging vor seinem Hirn
so lange, bis ich jäh ganz alt
und ruhig war und sterben konnte.
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Museum Day in Sofia

The holiest parts of the poet float
in two jars in a dusty case,
fish-white in formaldehyde.
Yet sitting there, somehow my heart
beat hard in front of his; my brain
zoned out as his did long ago –  
till suddenly I was very old,
and very calm, and fine with death.

Museum Day in Sofia

The holiest parts of the poet float
in two jars in a dusty case,
fish-white in formaldehyde.
Yet sitting there, somehow my heart
beat hard in front of his; my brain
zoned out as his did long ago –  
till suddenly I was very old,
and very calm, and fine with death.
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