Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Roni Margulies

THE ABYSS

I remember how a narrow beam of light
fell on my bed through the gap by the curtain,
one end waking me up by touching my eyelids,
the other resting on Elsa’s cheek.

As I lay absolutely still,
staring at that luminous strip
that climbed down my pillow
to become a short bridge across the sheet,

Elsa, too, woke and
silently moving over to my side,
fell asleep again
on my shoulder.

Then one day she walked down that bridge
and was gone.

Now, awakened by the sun
on summer mornings, I lie there,
numb with fear
of the abyss on the other side.

DE AFGROND

Op een ochtend viel door een kier van het gordijn
op mijn bed een lange smalle streep licht.
Het ene eind raakte mijn ogen, ik ontwaakte.
Het andere eind lag op de wang van Elsa.

Doodstil bleef ik liggen kijken
naar die glinsterende brug
die van mijn kussen omlaag kroop
en op het laken een korte weg baande,

ook zij ontwaakte.
Zonder iets te zeggen draaide ze zich om,
legde haar hoofd op mijn schouder,
en viel weer in slaap.

Later op een dag liep ze weg
over die brug en verdween.

Nu ben ik elke zomerochtend,
als de zon mij wakker maakt,
bang om in die peilloze afgrond
naast mijn kussen te vallen.

UÇURUM

Perdenin kenarından bir sabah
ince uzun bir ışık düştü yatağıma.
Bir ucu gözlerime değdi, uyandım.
Öbür ucu yanağındaydı Elsa’nın.

Hiç kımıldamadan bakarken ben,
yastığımdan aşağı kıvrılarak
çarşafta kısacık bir yol giden
o pırıltılı köprüye,

uyandı o da.
Ses çıkarmadan bu yana geçti,
başını omzuma yerleştirdi,
uyuyakaldı yine.

Sonra bir gün
yürüyüp gitti o köprüden.

Her yaz sabahı şimdi,
ne zaman uyandırsa güneş beni,
korkarım yastığımın yanıbaşındaki
o dipsiz uçuruma düşmekten.
Close

THE ABYSS

I remember how a narrow beam of light
fell on my bed through the gap by the curtain,
one end waking me up by touching my eyelids,
the other resting on Elsa’s cheek.

As I lay absolutely still,
staring at that luminous strip
that climbed down my pillow
to become a short bridge across the sheet,

Elsa, too, woke and
silently moving over to my side,
fell asleep again
on my shoulder.

Then one day she walked down that bridge
and was gone.

Now, awakened by the sun
on summer mornings, I lie there,
numb with fear
of the abyss on the other side.

THE ABYSS

I remember how a narrow beam of light
fell on my bed through the gap by the curtain,
one end waking me up by touching my eyelids,
the other resting on Elsa’s cheek.

As I lay absolutely still,
staring at that luminous strip
that climbed down my pillow
to become a short bridge across the sheet,

Elsa, too, woke and
silently moving over to my side,
fell asleep again
on my shoulder.

Then one day she walked down that bridge
and was gone.

Now, awakened by the sun
on summer mornings, I lie there,
numb with fear
of the abyss on the other side.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère