Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dan Coman

Impossible to move

i’m impossible to move, there is nothing inside me
still I’m impossible to move with the force of only one man.
like a massive piece of living-room furniture.
like anything that means nothing in itself.
but i talk. i talk until the skin of my cheeks bursts.
i never stop talking.
all my force gathers like a spring inside my mouth
and mercilessly beats out sound after sound. phrase after phrase.
nobody ever seems to get tired of understanding nothing of what I say.
nobody seems annoyed because there’s nobody left.
that’s how I was born. straight out of the ground impossible to move
directly with words outside mine. exactly like this.
like anything else that means nothing in itself.

Imposibil de urnit

Imposibil de urnit

sînt imposibil de urnit. fără nimic înăuntrul
meu însă imposibil de urnit
cu forţa unui singur om. ca o mobilă imensă de sufragerie.
ca orice lucru pentru care el însuși nu înseamnă nimic.
dar vorbesc. vorbesc pînă ce îmi plesnește pielea obrajilor.
nu încetez niciodată.
toată forţa mea se strînge ca un arc în fundul gurii
și lovește fără milă sunet de sunet. frază de frază.
nu obosesc pentru că nu înţeleg nimic din ceea ce spun.
și nu obosesc pe nimeni pentru că nu mai e nimeni.
așa m-am născut. direct din pămînt direct imposibil de urnit
direct cu vorbele afară din mine. exact așa.
ca orice alt lucru pentru care el însuși nu înseamnă nimic.
Close

Impossible to move

i’m impossible to move, there is nothing inside me
still I’m impossible to move with the force of only one man.
like a massive piece of living-room furniture.
like anything that means nothing in itself.
but i talk. i talk until the skin of my cheeks bursts.
i never stop talking.
all my force gathers like a spring inside my mouth
and mercilessly beats out sound after sound. phrase after phrase.
nobody ever seems to get tired of understanding nothing of what I say.
nobody seems annoyed because there’s nobody left.
that’s how I was born. straight out of the ground impossible to move
directly with words outside mine. exactly like this.
like anything else that means nothing in itself.

Impossible to move

i’m impossible to move, there is nothing inside me
still I’m impossible to move with the force of only one man.
like a massive piece of living-room furniture.
like anything that means nothing in itself.
but i talk. i talk until the skin of my cheeks bursts.
i never stop talking.
all my force gathers like a spring inside my mouth
and mercilessly beats out sound after sound. phrase after phrase.
nobody ever seems to get tired of understanding nothing of what I say.
nobody seems annoyed because there’s nobody left.
that’s how I was born. straight out of the ground impossible to move
directly with words outside mine. exactly like this.
like anything else that means nothing in itself.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère