Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Albertina Soepboer

ENCOUNTER

The city hung out its gray streets, sugar
swirled over the railroad tracks, one night.

In the light globe of a distant high-rise: man
waiting in the rain by a sugar-beet refinery.

I threw down my bicycle, knees trembling,
and recognized a voice from another past.

He shook my hand, assured me it was he:
first pianist in my life, sad September song.

MOETING

MOETING

De stêd wierre grize strjitten, sûker
twirren oan ’e spoarline, in nacht.

Yn ’e lampebol fan fiere flat: man
wachtsjend foar it reinich bytfabryk.

Ik smiet de fyts oan ’e kant, wankel
en werkende in lûd út in oar ferline.

Hy joech my de hân, sei dat hy it wie:
earste pianospiler, sad septembersong.
Close

ENCOUNTER

The city hung out its gray streets, sugar
swirled over the railroad tracks, one night.

In the light globe of a distant high-rise: man
waiting in the rain by a sugar-beet refinery.

I threw down my bicycle, knees trembling,
and recognized a voice from another past.

He shook my hand, assured me it was he:
first pianist in my life, sad September song.

ENCOUNTER

The city hung out its gray streets, sugar
swirled over the railroad tracks, one night.

In the light globe of a distant high-rise: man
waiting in the rain by a sugar-beet refinery.

I threw down my bicycle, knees trembling,
and recognized a voice from another past.

He shook my hand, assured me it was he:
first pianist in my life, sad September song.
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