Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jan Wagner

FENNEL

bulbs in front of a vegetable shop in winter –
like wan hearts, you said, tight packed
in a crate, in need of warmth – so that we

took them with us, carrying them home
to where the fire burned in the grate,
to where the candles burned on the table,

and helping them out of their thin skins,
topped their stalks, removed their trembling leaves
and hacked them into fine, white flakes,

waiting until the water had boiled,
and the window pane was blind from the steam.

VENKEL

knollen voor een groentewinkel in de winter –
als bleke harten, zei jij, opeengedrongen
in een kist, warmte zoekend – zodat wij

hen met ons meenamen en naar huis droegen,
waar vuur in de haard aangestoken was,
waar kaarsen op de tafel aangestoken waren,

en hen hielpen uit hun dunne huid,
de stronken kapten, de trillende bladeren wegnamen
en hen tot fijne witte vlokken hakten,

wachtend, tot het water kookte,
de ruit blind was door damp.

FENCHEL

knollen vor einem gemüseladen im winter –
wie bleiche herzen, sagtest du, gedrängt
in einer kiste, wärme suchend – so daß wir

sie mit uns nahmen und nach hause trugen,
wo feuer im kamin entzündet war,
wo kerzen auf dem tisch entzündet waren,

und ihnen halfen aus ihrer dünnen haut,
die strünke kappten, die zitternden blätter entfernten
und sie zu feinen weißen flocken hackten,

wartend, bis das wasser kochte,
die fensterscheibe blind war vom dampf.
Close

FENNEL

bulbs in front of a vegetable shop in winter –
like wan hearts, you said, tight packed
in a crate, in need of warmth – so that we

took them with us, carrying them home
to where the fire burned in the grate,
to where the candles burned on the table,

and helping them out of their thin skins,
topped their stalks, removed their trembling leaves
and hacked them into fine, white flakes,

waiting until the water had boiled,
and the window pane was blind from the steam.

FENNEL

bulbs in front of a vegetable shop in winter –
like wan hearts, you said, tight packed
in a crate, in need of warmth – so that we

took them with us, carrying them home
to where the fire burned in the grate,
to where the candles burned on the table,

and helping them out of their thin skins,
topped their stalks, removed their trembling leaves
and hacked them into fine, white flakes,

waiting until the water had boiled,
and the window pane was blind from the steam.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère