Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Erik Lindner

THE TRAMONTANA

Off the coast the diver rests in his story
and sparsely draws the cliff behind the beach.
The wind cuts the story and wears and rubs
the leaves from off the plane trees – the window frame.

I had the wind behind me for this story.
The journey narrated a man walked over the mountain
and the tale gets bogged down in the sea. The wind

lords it over his grave. And the diver is trapped
among the stones, the helpers pop
up and the wind crushes the swell and the sea.

The diver’s painting wind gusts off the coast.
The cliff’s in bloom. And the grave is a step
to the coral in a cavern on the bottom
above the colour engraving of the flower curtain.

De tramontane

De tramontane

Voor de kust rust de duiker in zijn verhaal
en tekent kaal de bergwand aan het strand.
De wind snijdt het verhaal en slijt en slijpt
bladeren van de platanen – het raamkozijn.

Ik kwam met de wind mee voor dit verhaal.
De reis vertelde een man liep over de berg
en het verhaal loopt dood op zee. De wind

speelt heer op zijn graf. En de duiker raakt
bekneld tussen het steen, de helpers duiken
op en de wind verplettert de deining de zee.

De duiker schildert windvlagen voor de kust.
De bergwand bloeit. En het graf is een trede
naar het koraal in een spelonk op de bodem
boven de kleurgravure van het bloemgordijn.
Close

THE TRAMONTANA

Off the coast the diver rests in his story
and sparsely draws the cliff behind the beach.
The wind cuts the story and wears and rubs
the leaves from off the plane trees – the window frame.

I had the wind behind me for this story.
The journey narrated a man walked over the mountain
and the tale gets bogged down in the sea. The wind

lords it over his grave. And the diver is trapped
among the stones, the helpers pop
up and the wind crushes the swell and the sea.

The diver’s painting wind gusts off the coast.
The cliff’s in bloom. And the grave is a step
to the coral in a cavern on the bottom
above the colour engraving of the flower curtain.

THE TRAMONTANA

Off the coast the diver rests in his story
and sparsely draws the cliff behind the beach.
The wind cuts the story and wears and rubs
the leaves from off the plane trees – the window frame.

I had the wind behind me for this story.
The journey narrated a man walked over the mountain
and the tale gets bogged down in the sea. The wind

lords it over his grave. And the diver is trapped
among the stones, the helpers pop
up and the wind crushes the swell and the sea.

The diver’s painting wind gusts off the coast.
The cliff’s in bloom. And the grave is a step
to the coral in a cavern on the bottom
above the colour engraving of the flower curtain.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère