Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Marie de Quatrebarbes

We get used to writings leaning

We get used to writings leaning where there are no longer children, now that they’ve grown up and their eyes recede into their faces

you talk of an image with corkscrewed socks

the piece of earthenware has no crease, the body is that of previous stages, with a laugh that was the sound she produced

there is the scandal of a possession, the shock invited to my table; then another part begins

we're taking care of the skeleton, dear

I am no longer the one I was when I was the child of a single time

the circle of chairs, matching, empty, on which the program sits nothing down, recreates the disappearance where we play the leading roles

Je went aan schuine handschriften

Je went aan schuine handschriften waarin geen kinderen meer zijn, als ze groot zijn geworden en hun ogen terugwijken in hun gezicht

schei uit, zo’n afgezakte-sokkenbeeld

het aardewerk is rimpelloos, het lichaam dat van de voorafgaande fases, met de lach die het geluid was dat ze voortbracht

er is het schandaal van een bezit, de aan mijn tafel genodigde schok; dan begint een andere partij

wij zorgen wel voor het geraamte, schat

ik ben niet meer die ik ben geweest zoals ik het kind was van één enkele keer

de kring van bij elkaar passende, lege stoelen, waarop het programma niets neerzet, voert andermaal het verdwijnen op waarin wij de hoofdrol spelen

On s’habitue aux écritures penchées où il n’y a plus d’enfants, lorsqu’ils sont devenus grands et que leurs yeux reculent dans le visage

tu parles d’une image aux chaussettes tire-bouchonnées

la faïence n’a pas de pli, le corps est celui des étapes précédentes, avec le rire qui fut le son qu’elle produisit

il y a le scandale d’une possession, le choc invité à ma table ; puis une autre partie commence

nous nous occuperons du squelette, petit

je ne suis plus celle que j’étais comme je fus l’enfant d’une seule fois

la ronde des chaises, assorties, vides, sur lesquelles le programme n’assoit rien, refait la disparition dont nous tenons les premiers rôles
Close

We get used to writings leaning

We get used to writings leaning where there are no longer children, now that they’ve grown up and their eyes recede into their faces

you talk of an image with corkscrewed socks

the piece of earthenware has no crease, the body is that of previous stages, with a laugh that was the sound she produced

there is the scandal of a possession, the shock invited to my table; then another part begins

we're taking care of the skeleton, dear

I am no longer the one I was when I was the child of a single time

the circle of chairs, matching, empty, on which the program sits nothing down, recreates the disappearance where we play the leading roles

We get used to writings leaning

We get used to writings leaning where there are no longer children, now that they’ve grown up and their eyes recede into their faces

you talk of an image with corkscrewed socks

the piece of earthenware has no crease, the body is that of previous stages, with a laugh that was the sound she produced

there is the scandal of a possession, the shock invited to my table; then another part begins

we're taking care of the skeleton, dear

I am no longer the one I was when I was the child of a single time

the circle of chairs, matching, empty, on which the program sits nothing down, recreates the disappearance where we play the leading roles
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