Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Roberto Amato

I believed I was me

I believed I was me
when I lay beside myself at night
(on my right side so I could turn my back to the world).
My mother was not yet me
and my father too had never imagined
that I could be him
(or vice-versa).

As you can see doctor
I have lost my head in this lucid
reasoning
but I can’t find yours either in the light of your collar.
Perhaps you keep it under your white coat
for fear that I might seize it by the nose
and maybe shake it
and maybe make it go mad with a festive
jingling of thoughts.

Ik dacht mijzelf te zijn

Ik dacht mijzelf te zijn
toen ik ’s nachts naast mij lag
(op mijn rechterzij keerde ik de wereld de rug toe).
Mijn moeder was mij nog niet
en zelfs mijn vader had er nog nooit aan gedacht
dat ik hem zou kunnen zijn
(of omgekeerd).

Ziet u, dokter
mijn hoofd duizelt van deze heldere 
redeneringen
maar ook dat van u zie ik nergens tussen het wit van uw kraag.
Misschien houdt u hem verborgen onder uw doktersjas
uit angst dat ik hem bij de neus kan grijpen
en misschien heen en weer schudt
en misschien wel dol laat draaien met een feestelijk
klingelen van gedachten.

Io credevo di essere io
quando la notte mi dormivo accanto
(sul fianco destro per dare le spalle al mondo).
Mia madre non era ancora me
e neanche mio padre aveva mai pensato
che io potessi essere lui
(o viceversa).

Come vede dottore
la mia testa si è persa in questi limpidi
ragionamenti
ma anche la sua non la trovo nel bianco del colletto.
Forse la tiene sotto il camice
per paura che io possa prenderla per il naso
e magari scuoterla
e magari farla impazzire con un festoso
tintinnio di pensieri.
Close

I believed I was me

I believed I was me
when I lay beside myself at night
(on my right side so I could turn my back to the world).
My mother was not yet me
and my father too had never imagined
that I could be him
(or vice-versa).

As you can see doctor
I have lost my head in this lucid
reasoning
but I can’t find yours either in the light of your collar.
Perhaps you keep it under your white coat
for fear that I might seize it by the nose
and maybe shake it
and maybe make it go mad with a festive
jingling of thoughts.

I believed I was me

I believed I was me
when I lay beside myself at night
(on my right side so I could turn my back to the world).
My mother was not yet me
and my father too had never imagined
that I could be him
(or vice-versa).

As you can see doctor
I have lost my head in this lucid
reasoning
but I can’t find yours either in the light of your collar.
Perhaps you keep it under your white coat
for fear that I might seize it by the nose
and maybe shake it
and maybe make it go mad with a festive
jingling of thoughts.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère