Poem
Jan H. Mysjkin
BUTTERFLY-FISH
The sea was a pink, purple and pearly glaze,
without a rimple of surprise.
without a rimple of surprise.
* * *
I thought I had seen flying fish before.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
* * *
In the setting sun they look like
microscopically small skaters.
microscopically small skaters.
© Translation: 2011, Jan H. Mysjkin
VLINDERVISSEN
VLINDERVISSEN
De zee was een roze, zachtpaars en parelgrijs glacis,
zonder de minste overrimpeling.
zonder de minste overrimpeling.
* * *
Ik dacht dat ik al eens vliegende vissen had gezien.
Ik heb me vergist. Ik zag er pas
vandaag: van zes uur ’s morgens tot zes uur’s avonds
schoten ze vinwiekend voorbij.
Ik heb me vergist. Ik zag er pas
vandaag: van zes uur ’s morgens tot zes uur’s avonds
schoten ze vinwiekend voorbij.
Van ver zijn ze vlinders. Van
dichtbij zijn ze vogels.
Ze zien er nooit als vissen uit, behalve
wanneer ze opnieuw in het water duiken.
Ik zag ze – absoluut gelijk aan zwaluwen
bij een dreigende zomerbui – scheren
over kwallen als amethisten reuzenparels.
dichtbij zijn ze vogels.
Ze zien er nooit als vissen uit, behalve
wanneer ze opnieuw in het water duiken.
Ik zag ze – absoluut gelijk aan zwaluwen
bij een dreigende zomerbui – scheren
over kwallen als amethisten reuzenparels.
* * *
In de ondergaande zon zien ze eruit
als microscopisch kleine schaatsenrijders.
als microscopisch kleine schaatsenrijders.
© 2010, Jan H. Mysjkin
From: Voor mijn ogen ligt het zwijgen
Publisher: Poëziecentrum, Gent
From: Voor mijn ogen ligt het zwijgen
Publisher: Poëziecentrum, Gent
Poems
Poems of Jan H. Mysjkin
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BUTTERFLY-FISH
The sea was a pink, purple and pearly glaze,
without a rimple of surprise.
without a rimple of surprise.
* * *
I thought I had seen flying fish before.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
* * *
In the setting sun they look like
microscopically small skaters.
microscopically small skaters.
© 2011, Jan H. Mysjkin
From: Voor mijn ogen ligt het zwijgen
From: Voor mijn ogen ligt het zwijgen
BUTTERFLY-FISH
The sea was a pink, purple and pearly glaze,
without a rimple of surprise.
without a rimple of surprise.
* * *
I thought I had seen flying fish before.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
I was mistaken. I only saw some
today: from six in the morning to six in the evening
they whizzed fin-flapping past.
From afar they are butterflies. From
nearby they are birds.
They never look like fish except
when dipping back into the water.
I saw them – exactly like swallows
at the threat of a summer shower – skimming
over medusas like giant beads of amethyst.
* * *
In the setting sun they look like
microscopically small skaters.
microscopically small skaters.
© 2011, Jan H. Mysjkin
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