Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Miguel-Manso

SO LITTLE DEPENDS

you prefer the corner, the hidden place
the foliage, the shadow, the room, this
sack of wheat: textual gold
spread out on the old secretaire of the real

outside the blaze of the wood
the quick glazing of the fields
here inside, less leeway – another

panorama: simply the presence
uninhabited by a person, mystery without
attribute or function

always the undoing of a heart
the industrial cultivation of figures
and leftover sadness and days for the body that writes
in the calaboose of a vast morning

radiant with drops of honey
as the cats lick Saturday
and sitting, like a gold frog, you let yourself add to the world
(but why) another poem

ZOVEEL HANGT ER NIET VAN AF

je verkiest de hoek, de verborgen plek
het lommer, de schaduw, de kamer, deze
zak tarwe: goud van een tekst
op de oude schrijftafel van het werkelijke

daar buiten de gloed van het geboomte
sluipwegen naar de kleuring van het landschap
hier binnen minder paden, een ander

panorama: alleen de onbewoonde
aanwezigheid van een persoon, mysterie zonder
eigenschap of functie

altijd de krenking van een hart
de intensieve kweek van de figuren
en droefheid en dagen te over voor het lichaam dat schrijft
in de kerker van een heel ruime morgen

glanzend van honingdruppels
terwijl de katten de zaterdag likken
en zittend, gouden kikker, veroorloof jij je (maar waarom)
nog een gedicht op de wereld te zetten

NEM TANTA COISA DEPENDE

preferes o canto, o lugar oculto
a folhagem, a sombra, o quarto, este
saco de trigo: ouro de um texto
sobre a velha escrivaninha do real

lá fora o clarão do arvoredo
atalhos para a tingidura da paisagem
cá dentro menos caminho, outro

panorama: a presença tão-só
desabitada de uma pessoa, mistério sem
atributo ou função

sempre a desfeita de um coração
o cultivo intensivo das figuras
e sobram tristeza e dias ao corpo que escreve
no calabouço de uma manhã muito larga

reluzente de gotas de mel
enquanto os gatos lambem o sábado
e sentado, sapo de ouro, permites-te pôr no mundo
(mas porquê) outro poema
Close

SO LITTLE DEPENDS

you prefer the corner, the hidden place
the foliage, the shadow, the room, this
sack of wheat: textual gold
spread out on the old secretaire of the real

outside the blaze of the wood
the quick glazing of the fields
here inside, less leeway – another

panorama: simply the presence
uninhabited by a person, mystery without
attribute or function

always the undoing of a heart
the industrial cultivation of figures
and leftover sadness and days for the body that writes
in the calaboose of a vast morning

radiant with drops of honey
as the cats lick Saturday
and sitting, like a gold frog, you let yourself add to the world
(but why) another poem

SO LITTLE DEPENDS

you prefer the corner, the hidden place
the foliage, the shadow, the room, this
sack of wheat: textual gold
spread out on the old secretaire of the real

outside the blaze of the wood
the quick glazing of the fields
here inside, less leeway – another

panorama: simply the presence
uninhabited by a person, mystery without
attribute or function

always the undoing of a heart
the industrial cultivation of figures
and leftover sadness and days for the body that writes
in the calaboose of a vast morning

radiant with drops of honey
as the cats lick Saturday
and sitting, like a gold frog, you let yourself add to the world
(but why) another poem
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
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