Poem
Albertina Soepboer
DECEMBER IS THE COOLEST MONTH
Never before had the moon been freezing cold.I bought a pair of royal-blue mittens for him.
Our first day he played Satie. Pure happiness,
a windowsill, ten fingers flying through space.
Hands darted over ebony and ivory, glinted off
ice crystals. The tone not just set but made.
The way we stood there, later, by the window.
White, winter music we were, and warm too.
© Translation: 2003, Susan Massotty
DECEMBER IS THE COOLEST MONTH
DECEMBER IS THE COOLEST MONTH
Net earder hie de moanne roetkâld west.Foar him kocht ik keningsblauwe moffen.
Us earste dei spile er Satie. Lok wie it,
in finsterbank, tsien fingers yn ’e romte.
Hannen fleagen oer houtdonker en ivoar,
wjerljochten op iiskristal. De toan ûntstie.
Sa’t wy dêr doe letter foar it rút stienen.
Wyt, wintermuzyk wienen wy, waarm ek.
© 2003, Albertina Soepboer
From: De fjoerbidders
Publisher: Bornmeer,
From: De fjoerbidders
Publisher: Bornmeer,
Poems
Poems of Albertina Soepboer
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DECEMBER IS THE COOLEST MONTH
Never before had the moon been freezing cold.I bought a pair of royal-blue mittens for him.
Our first day he played Satie. Pure happiness,
a windowsill, ten fingers flying through space.
Hands darted over ebony and ivory, glinted off
ice crystals. The tone not just set but made.
The way we stood there, later, by the window.
White, winter music we were, and warm too.
© 2003, Susan Massotty
From: De fjoerbidders
From: De fjoerbidders
DECEMBER IS THE COOLEST MONTH
Never before had the moon been freezing cold.I bought a pair of royal-blue mittens for him.
Our first day he played Satie. Pure happiness,
a windowsill, ten fingers flying through space.
Hands darted over ebony and ivory, glinted off
ice crystals. The tone not just set but made.
The way we stood there, later, by the window.
White, winter music we were, and warm too.
© 2003, Susan Massotty
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