Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Gihan Omar

Group sex

He closes his eyes
and imagines she’s a more beautiful woman.
She closes her eyes
and imagines he’s a man she loves.
The four of them are there
in the bed together:
him
and her
and the beautiful woman
and the man she loves.
They fold the brightly colored sheets,
each hand holding a corner:
They might need them
to be a parachute
when they come crashing down from the sky,
and they might need them
because all their crimes of imagination
– the old ones, and the ones they’ve mapped out –
permit distance and flight,
for neither of them
has ever
hinted at what’s wrong.

Groepsseks

Hij sloot zijn ogen
en zag haar als een mooie vrouw
zij sloot haar ogen
en zag hem als een man die van haar hield
Met zijn vieren lagen ze in bed
zij
hij
de mooie vrouw
en de man die van haar hield
Ze hielden de punten van het kleurige laken
met één hand vast
misschien hadden ze hem ooit nodig
als parachute . . .
als ze uit de hemel vielen
Van de vele zonden van de geest
oud en nieuw 
kun je afstand nemen
en er nooit over praten

جنس جماعي

يغمض عينيه
يتخيلها امرأةً أجمل
تغمض عينيها
تتخيله رجلاً  يحبها
كان الأربعة في الفراش
هي
وهو
و المرأة الجميلة
والرجل الذي يحبها
يعقدون أطراف الملاءة الملونة
كل طرف تمسكه يد
ربما يحتاجونها
كمظلة ..
لحظة الهبوط من السماء
ولأن جرائم الخيال الكثيرة
القديمة والمخطط لها ..
تستطيع الابتعاد والتحليق
فلم يشيرا يوماً إلى الأمر .
Close

Group sex

He closes his eyes
and imagines she’s a more beautiful woman.
She closes her eyes
and imagines he’s a man she loves.
The four of them are there
in the bed together:
him
and her
and the beautiful woman
and the man she loves.
They fold the brightly colored sheets,
each hand holding a corner:
They might need them
to be a parachute
when they come crashing down from the sky,
and they might need them
because all their crimes of imagination
– the old ones, and the ones they’ve mapped out –
permit distance and flight,
for neither of them
has ever
hinted at what’s wrong.

Group sex

He closes his eyes
and imagines she’s a more beautiful woman.
She closes her eyes
and imagines he’s a man she loves.
The four of them are there
in the bed together:
him
and her
and the beautiful woman
and the man she loves.
They fold the brightly colored sheets,
each hand holding a corner:
They might need them
to be a parachute
when they come crashing down from the sky,
and they might need them
because all their crimes of imagination
– the old ones, and the ones they’ve mapped out –
permit distance and flight,
for neither of them
has ever
hinted at what’s wrong.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère