Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Aurélia Lassaque

Prologue

She

All that follows is from profane memory

the poets reinvented everything

they needed a man
to upstage the gods
and, like any man
far from home
with much weeping
to curse the wine-dark sea
and tear at his face

when the poet died
ten took his place and rewrote the story

and so man created the myth


i nailed hope to the four walls of my cell 

there is no land more vast than memory
i hollowed out its mountains, drained its rivers
searched among the stones of all its ramparts
waiting for my errant lover to return

the man who rallies your voices
endures your deliriums
and wears every mask
the man you call Ulysses

Proloog

Zij

Dit alles is van profane heugenis

de dichters hebben alles heruitgevonden

er was een man nodig
die de goden overtrof
en die als ieder mens
ver van zijn huis
zo vaak in tranen
de wijnkleurige zee zou vervloeken
zijn gezicht zou openrijten

toen de dichter doodging
hebben tien anderen zijn plaats ingenomen de geschiedenis herschreven

zo heeft de mens de mythe voortgebracht


Ik heb de hoop aan de vier muren van mijn cel genageld

er is geen weidser territorium dan dat van mijn geheugen
ik heb zijn bergen afgegraven, zijn rivieren geleegd
de stenen van al zijn muren omgekeerd
wachtend op de terugkeer van mijn barbaarse minnaar

de man die jullie stemmen verenigt
jullie wanen verduurt
en alle maskers draagt
de man die jullie Odysseus noemen

Prologue

Elle

Tout ceci est de mémoire profane

les poètes ont tout réinventé

il fallait un homme
qui surpasse les dieux
et qui comme tout homme
loin de sa maison
si souvent en larmes
maudisse la mer vineuse
se griffe le visage 

quand le poète est mort
dix autres ont pris sa place et ont récrit l’histoire

ainsi l’homme a engendré le mythe


J’ai cloué l’espoir aux quatre murs de ma cellule

il n’est pas de territoire plus vaste que celui de ma mémoire
j’ai creusé ses montagnes, vidé ses rivières
retourné les pierres de toutes ses murailles
en attendant le retour de mon amant barbare

cet homme qui rassemble vos voix
endure vos délires
et porte tous les masques
cet homme que vous appelez Ulysse
Close

Prologue

She

All that follows is from profane memory

the poets reinvented everything

they needed a man
to upstage the gods
and, like any man
far from home
with much weeping
to curse the wine-dark sea
and tear at his face

when the poet died
ten took his place and rewrote the story

and so man created the myth


i nailed hope to the four walls of my cell 

there is no land more vast than memory
i hollowed out its mountains, drained its rivers
searched among the stones of all its ramparts
waiting for my errant lover to return

the man who rallies your voices
endures your deliriums
and wears every mask
the man you call Ulysses

Prologue

She

All that follows is from profane memory

the poets reinvented everything

they needed a man
to upstage the gods
and, like any man
far from home
with much weeping
to curse the wine-dark sea
and tear at his face

when the poet died
ten took his place and rewrote the story

and so man created the myth


i nailed hope to the four walls of my cell 

there is no land more vast than memory
i hollowed out its mountains, drained its rivers
searched among the stones of all its ramparts
waiting for my errant lover to return

the man who rallies your voices
endures your deliriums
and wears every mask
the man you call Ulysses
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