Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Robert Anker

HOMESICK FOR THE DARK

The dark stumbled on words and then pushed me down
it was my friend after all now turning against me
I had an intention I wished to move upwards
for mother a basket of rags that was dreaming
I knew it well from mending worn trousers
the dark stumbled on words and began on a story
it was not only homeless and headless
figures that under its fur – the smudgers!
not whispering but listening breathing
hear them weep softly far off after straying
the dark stumbled on words to me screaming
to here in my outermost ear but it wanted
a dawning of joy when I clotted with fear:
I am here rampant with life and with captive power
never closer than now to the dark my friend.

Heimwee naar het donker

Heimwee naar het donker

Het donker versprak zich en duwde mij neer
het was toch mijn vriend die zich tegen mij keerde
ik had een bedoeling ik wilde naar boven
van moeder een mandje met lappen dat droomde
ik kende het goed om een broek te verstellen
het donker versprak zich begon te vertellen
het was niet alleen onthuisde onthalsde
gestalten die onder zijn vacht – de kladden!
ze fluisteren niet maar ze luisteren ademend
hoor ze huilen heel zacht van ver na het dwalen
zo versprak zich het donker aan mij het gilde
tot hier in mijn uiterste oor maar het wilde
een dagend geluk toen ik stolde van angst:
ik ben er tierend van leven en vangkracht
nooit was ik dichterbij het donker mijn vriend.
Close

HOMESICK FOR THE DARK

The dark stumbled on words and then pushed me down
it was my friend after all now turning against me
I had an intention I wished to move upwards
for mother a basket of rags that was dreaming
I knew it well from mending worn trousers
the dark stumbled on words and began on a story
it was not only homeless and headless
figures that under its fur – the smudgers!
not whispering but listening breathing
hear them weep softly far off after straying
the dark stumbled on words to me screaming
to here in my outermost ear but it wanted
a dawning of joy when I clotted with fear:
I am here rampant with life and with captive power
never closer than now to the dark my friend.

HOMESICK FOR THE DARK

The dark stumbled on words and then pushed me down
it was my friend after all now turning against me
I had an intention I wished to move upwards
for mother a basket of rags that was dreaming
I knew it well from mending worn trousers
the dark stumbled on words and began on a story
it was not only homeless and headless
figures that under its fur – the smudgers!
not whispering but listening breathing
hear them weep softly far off after straying
the dark stumbled on words to me screaming
to here in my outermost ear but it wanted
a dawning of joy when I clotted with fear:
I am here rampant with life and with captive power
never closer than now to the dark my friend.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère