Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Hannah van Binsbergen

UNLUCKY STAR

It is Wednesday and I’m allowed to choose a suit of armour to
keep violence at bay, allied with the Enemies of Humiliation.
When I bring my legs together again, I become more and more tired;
I can wait in my armour or the skirt he liked so much, he won’t
come. I bite him, it needs to be knocked out of him.
When I open my eyes, everything is lost, I have to go along with them
to the hole in history. Of the marches you could go on, you
who I call my brothers, why isn’t there a single one
that doesn’t go forwards?

I can’t choose. My friends won’t help me and my enemy
who begins to take shape on the edge of my fears,
speaks encouraging words.
Have you ever thought about the evil that hides in a situation?
The suit of armour I choose will hopefully conceal my odour.
When I close my legs, everything is lost.
My suit of armour rivets me to this moment, where something is
remembered and something is promised and this star hangs above my entire generation.

I have little hope without you, but you give me nothing
that I don’t have let go so soon and so embarrassingly softly,
you who I call my brothers, a dream
that can shatter daily life, is that
the reason we advance?
As long as I don’t open my eyes, I’m lying in his arms.

Kwaad gesternte

Kwaad gesternte

Het is woensdag en ik mag een harnas kiezen dat geweld
op afstand houdt, in alliantie met de Vijanden van Vernedering.
Als ik mijn benen weer bij elkaar doe, word ik moeier en moeier;
ik kan wachten in mijn wapenrusting of het rokje dat hij mooi vond, hij
zal niet komen. Ik bijt hem, hij moet het afleren.
Als ik mijn ogen open is alles verloren, dan moet ik meegaan
naar het gat in de geschiedenis. Van alle marsen die jullie kunnen
lopen, jullie die ik mijn broeders noem, waarom is er niet één
die niet vooruitgaat?

Ik kan niet kiezen. Mijn vrienden willen mij niet helpen en mijn vijand
die een vaste vorm begint te krijgen aan de randen van mijn angsten
spreekt bemoedigende woorden.
Hebben jullie wel eens aan het kwaad gedacht dat in de situatie schuilt?
Het harnas dat ik kies zal hopelijk mijn geur verhullen.
Als ik mijn benen bij elkaar doe, is alles verloren.
Mijn harnas klinkt me vast aan dit moment, waar iets herinnerd
en iets beloofd wordt en dit gesternte staat boven mijn hele generatie.

Ik heb weinig hoop zonder jullie, maar jullie geven me niets
wat ik niet snel en zo vernederend zacht moet laten gaan,
jullie die ik mijn broeders noem, een droom
die het dagelijks leven stuk kan slaan, is dat
waarom we vooruitgaan?
Zolang ik niet mijn ogen open, lig ik in zijn armen.
Close

UNLUCKY STAR

It is Wednesday and I’m allowed to choose a suit of armour to
keep violence at bay, allied with the Enemies of Humiliation.
When I bring my legs together again, I become more and more tired;
I can wait in my armour or the skirt he liked so much, he won’t
come. I bite him, it needs to be knocked out of him.
When I open my eyes, everything is lost, I have to go along with them
to the hole in history. Of the marches you could go on, you
who I call my brothers, why isn’t there a single one
that doesn’t go forwards?

I can’t choose. My friends won’t help me and my enemy
who begins to take shape on the edge of my fears,
speaks encouraging words.
Have you ever thought about the evil that hides in a situation?
The suit of armour I choose will hopefully conceal my odour.
When I close my legs, everything is lost.
My suit of armour rivets me to this moment, where something is
remembered and something is promised and this star hangs above my entire generation.

I have little hope without you, but you give me nothing
that I don’t have let go so soon and so embarrassingly softly,
you who I call my brothers, a dream
that can shatter daily life, is that
the reason we advance?
As long as I don’t open my eyes, I’m lying in his arms.

UNLUCKY STAR

It is Wednesday and I’m allowed to choose a suit of armour to
keep violence at bay, allied with the Enemies of Humiliation.
When I bring my legs together again, I become more and more tired;
I can wait in my armour or the skirt he liked so much, he won’t
come. I bite him, it needs to be knocked out of him.
When I open my eyes, everything is lost, I have to go along with them
to the hole in history. Of the marches you could go on, you
who I call my brothers, why isn’t there a single one
that doesn’t go forwards?

I can’t choose. My friends won’t help me and my enemy
who begins to take shape on the edge of my fears,
speaks encouraging words.
Have you ever thought about the evil that hides in a situation?
The suit of armour I choose will hopefully conceal my odour.
When I close my legs, everything is lost.
My suit of armour rivets me to this moment, where something is
remembered and something is promised and this star hangs above my entire generation.

I have little hope without you, but you give me nothing
that I don’t have let go so soon and so embarrassingly softly,
you who I call my brothers, a dream
that can shatter daily life, is that
the reason we advance?
As long as I don’t open my eyes, I’m lying in his arms.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère