Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mustafa Kör

FEARS

Now, in this empty hour, you lie
successful beneath eiderdown and pillowcase
of a mother-in-law with status 

If only I felt fears
Cruel, sorely needed fears
like the children’s voices behind hedges
of an aborted time past
 

The fear of roaming dogs
Granddad’s dancing civilizing stick
The revolutions out of America’s 

Beautiful fears in which we believed
Good fears that make us human
Fears that offered firm footholds 

Now, fearing neither god or his laws, you lie
under a prickly blanket
abandoned in folds of the night 

The heartbeat creeps up on you, scared stiff
that at the behest of your haunted spirit
you will no longer want to be

ANGSTEN

ANGSTEN

Nu, in dit ijle uur, lig je
geslaagd te wezen onder dekbed en fluwijn
van een schoonmoeder met stand 

Had ik maar angsten
Wrede, broodnodige angsten
zoals de kinderstemmen achter hagen
van een geaborteerd verleden 

De angst voor loslopende honden
Het vlinderen van opa’s cultiverende stok
De revoluties uit Amerika’s 

Mooie angsten waarin we geloofden
Goede angsten die vermenselijken
Angsten die houvast boden 

Nu, god noch gebod vrezende, lig je
onder een stekende deken
verloren in plooien van de nacht 

De hartklop bekruipt je, doodsbang
om het verlangen van je bespookte geest
er niet meer te willen zijn

Close

FEARS

Now, in this empty hour, you lie
successful beneath eiderdown and pillowcase
of a mother-in-law with status 

If only I felt fears
Cruel, sorely needed fears
like the children’s voices behind hedges
of an aborted time past
 

The fear of roaming dogs
Granddad’s dancing civilizing stick
The revolutions out of America’s 

Beautiful fears in which we believed
Good fears that make us human
Fears that offered firm footholds 

Now, fearing neither god or his laws, you lie
under a prickly blanket
abandoned in folds of the night 

The heartbeat creeps up on you, scared stiff
that at the behest of your haunted spirit
you will no longer want to be

FEARS

Now, in this empty hour, you lie
successful beneath eiderdown and pillowcase
of a mother-in-law with status 

If only I felt fears
Cruel, sorely needed fears
like the children’s voices behind hedges
of an aborted time past
 

The fear of roaming dogs
Granddad’s dancing civilizing stick
The revolutions out of America’s 

Beautiful fears in which we believed
Good fears that make us human
Fears that offered firm footholds 

Now, fearing neither god or his laws, you lie
under a prickly blanket
abandoned in folds of the night 

The heartbeat creeps up on you, scared stiff
that at the behest of your haunted spirit
you will no longer want to be

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