Poem
Hannah van Binsbergen
FORECASTS OF JULIA AND SYLVIA
While I was still a distant stareye to eye with the Earth, in those wonder years
I studied magic. Now I’ve stopped with studying
and if that makes me a dead star
there’s no need for me to say it. You know this already.
Julia, shall we go for a walk?
I don’t think so. I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
I’m in the grass in the Florapark I’m five years old
and someone just snapped a picture of my brother’s chomping mouth.
In the grass in the mouth of my brother in the weekend in a distant star.
I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
Shall I tell them how I will emerge, detective novel at the ready
in a light blue t-shirt with a pocket revolver in search of evidence
with the longing for an unprecedented quest
or do they know this already?
Beyond the grass
over the river
no one wants to learn how he must live.
And I stand in the grass and learn for the first time
how fiercely I must strike.
I have stolen the neighbors’ car. It is Friday night and this is the moment.
How could I have thought it would go unnoticed.
If only I were there to stand by my side.
I hear footsteps behind the left wall and I have stolen my neighbor’s car.
It’s parked in my bedroom. Everyone knows this.
I merely ask Sylvia if she still knows who her friends are.
I stand on the other side these days.
I think in fact I wouldn’t do any worse under criminals
than under the law. I am an eager empty glass an eager reader
I only know
that this must happen now.
On the banks of this dirty river
no one wants to learn how he must live
on the untraceable banks of my dirty river
my groundless great adventure you know this already because it’s simple
Julia is good. Sylvia is bad. Look above: there is no adventure.
Look below: one night a distant star floats eye to eye with a great secret.
Behind the left wall and everyone knows this.
I go into your house
but they go into my house. They search for me and isn’t this
what I’ve longed for all these years?
To search for consistency in the wounded literature
of everyday life. To hand someone a first aid kit and to go on the run
together. While everyone beholds us. From every imaginable location.
Look over your shoulder.
I’m also bad, I’m in possession of a weapon.
But fistfights
possess the purity of a nursery rhyme
carried by a warm gust of wind
from 1998 to
my dirty river.
© Translation: 2017, Lodewijk Verduin and Mia You
voorspellingen van Julia en Sylvia
voorspellingen van Julia en Sylvia
Toen ik nog een verre ster wasoog in oog met de aardbol, in die schone tijden
bestudeerde ik magie. Nu ben ik opgehouden met studeren
en als me dat een dode ster maakt
hoef ik dat niet te zeggen. Dan weten jullie dat al.
Julia, zullen we een wandeling maken?
Ik dacht het niet. Ik sta in een grasveld en dit is het moment.
Ik ben in een grasveld in het Florapark ik ben vijf jaar oud
en iemand heeft net de smakkende mond van mijn broer gefotografeerd.
In een grasveld in de mond van mijn broer in het weekend in een verre ster.
Ik sta in dit grasveld en dit is het moment.
Moet ik ze vertellen hoe ik op zal komen, detectiveroman in de aanslag
in een lichtblauw t-shirt met een zakrevolver op zoek naar bewijs
met een verlangen naar een ongeëvenaarde zoektocht
of weten ze dat al?
Langs het grasveld
over de rivier
wil niemand leren hoe hij moet leven.
En ik sta in een grasveld en leer voor het eerst
hoe raak ik moet slaan.
Ik heb de auto van de buren gestolen. Het is vrijdagavond en dit is het moment.
Hoe heb ik kunnen denken dat het niet gemerkt zou worden.
Was ik maar hier om me bij te staan.
Ik hoor voetstappen achter de linkermuur en ik heb de auto van de buurman gestolen.
Hij staat in mijn slaapkamer. Iedereen weet dit.
Ik vroeg gewoon aan Sylvia of ze nog wist wie haar vrienden zijn
ik sta tegenwoordig aan de andere kant.
Ik denk oprecht dat ik het niet slechter zou doen onder criminelen
dan onder de wet. Ik ben een gretig leeg glas een gretige lezer
ik weet alleen
dat het nu moet gebeuren.
Aan de oevers van deze vieze rivier
wil niemand leren hoe hij moet leven
aan de onvindbare oevers mijn vuile rivier
mijn ongegronde grote avontuur je weet het al want het is simpel
Julia is goed. Sylvia is slecht. Kijk omhoog: er is geen avontuur.
Kijk omlaag: een verre ster zweeft op een avond oog in oog met een groot geheim.
Achter de linkermuur en iedereen weet dit.
Ik kom je huis binnen maar
ze komen ook mijn huis binnen. Ze zoeken mij, en is dat niet waarnaar ik
al die jaren heb verlangd?
Een samenhang te zoeken in de gewonde literatuur
van het dagelijks leven. Iemand een verbanddoos aan te reiken en samen op de vlucht te
gaan. Terwijl iedereen ons waarneemt. Vanaf iedere denkbare plaats.
Kijk over je schouder,
ook ik ben slecht, ik ben in het bezit van een wapen.
Maar vuistgevechten
bezitten de puurheid van een kinderlied
gedragen door een warme windvlaag
van 1998 naar
mijn vuile rivier.
From: Kwaad gesternte
Publisher: Atlas Contact, Amsterdam
Publisher: Atlas Contact, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Hannah van Binsbergen
Close
FORECASTS OF JULIA AND SYLVIA
While I was still a distant stareye to eye with the Earth, in those wonder years
I studied magic. Now I’ve stopped with studying
and if that makes me a dead star
there’s no need for me to say it. You know this already.
Julia, shall we go for a walk?
I don’t think so. I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
I’m in the grass in the Florapark I’m five years old
and someone just snapped a picture of my brother’s chomping mouth.
In the grass in the mouth of my brother in the weekend in a distant star.
I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
Shall I tell them how I will emerge, detective novel at the ready
in a light blue t-shirt with a pocket revolver in search of evidence
with the longing for an unprecedented quest
or do they know this already?
Beyond the grass
over the river
no one wants to learn how he must live.
And I stand in the grass and learn for the first time
how fiercely I must strike.
I have stolen the neighbors’ car. It is Friday night and this is the moment.
How could I have thought it would go unnoticed.
If only I were there to stand by my side.
I hear footsteps behind the left wall and I have stolen my neighbor’s car.
It’s parked in my bedroom. Everyone knows this.
I merely ask Sylvia if she still knows who her friends are.
I stand on the other side these days.
I think in fact I wouldn’t do any worse under criminals
than under the law. I am an eager empty glass an eager reader
I only know
that this must happen now.
On the banks of this dirty river
no one wants to learn how he must live
on the untraceable banks of my dirty river
my groundless great adventure you know this already because it’s simple
Julia is good. Sylvia is bad. Look above: there is no adventure.
Look below: one night a distant star floats eye to eye with a great secret.
Behind the left wall and everyone knows this.
I go into your house
but they go into my house. They search for me and isn’t this
what I’ve longed for all these years?
To search for consistency in the wounded literature
of everyday life. To hand someone a first aid kit and to go on the run
together. While everyone beholds us. From every imaginable location.
Look over your shoulder.
I’m also bad, I’m in possession of a weapon.
But fistfights
possess the purity of a nursery rhyme
carried by a warm gust of wind
from 1998 to
my dirty river.
© 2017, Lodewijk Verduin and Mia You
From: Kwaad gesternte
From: Kwaad gesternte
FORECASTS OF JULIA AND SYLVIA
While I was still a distant stareye to eye with the Earth, in those wonder years
I studied magic. Now I’ve stopped with studying
and if that makes me a dead star
there’s no need for me to say it. You know this already.
Julia, shall we go for a walk?
I don’t think so. I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
I’m in the grass in the Florapark I’m five years old
and someone just snapped a picture of my brother’s chomping mouth.
In the grass in the mouth of my brother in the weekend in a distant star.
I stand in the grass and this is the moment.
Shall I tell them how I will emerge, detective novel at the ready
in a light blue t-shirt with a pocket revolver in search of evidence
with the longing for an unprecedented quest
or do they know this already?
Beyond the grass
over the river
no one wants to learn how he must live.
And I stand in the grass and learn for the first time
how fiercely I must strike.
I have stolen the neighbors’ car. It is Friday night and this is the moment.
How could I have thought it would go unnoticed.
If only I were there to stand by my side.
I hear footsteps behind the left wall and I have stolen my neighbor’s car.
It’s parked in my bedroom. Everyone knows this.
I merely ask Sylvia if she still knows who her friends are.
I stand on the other side these days.
I think in fact I wouldn’t do any worse under criminals
than under the law. I am an eager empty glass an eager reader
I only know
that this must happen now.
On the banks of this dirty river
no one wants to learn how he must live
on the untraceable banks of my dirty river
my groundless great adventure you know this already because it’s simple
Julia is good. Sylvia is bad. Look above: there is no adventure.
Look below: one night a distant star floats eye to eye with a great secret.
Behind the left wall and everyone knows this.
I go into your house
but they go into my house. They search for me and isn’t this
what I’ve longed for all these years?
To search for consistency in the wounded literature
of everyday life. To hand someone a first aid kit and to go on the run
together. While everyone beholds us. From every imaginable location.
Look over your shoulder.
I’m also bad, I’m in possession of a weapon.
But fistfights
possess the purity of a nursery rhyme
carried by a warm gust of wind
from 1998 to
my dirty river.
© 2017, Lodewijk Verduin and Mia You
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