Gedicht
Albertina Soepboer
ENCOUNTER
The city hung out its gray streets, sugarswirled 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.
© Translation: 2003, Susan Massotty
MOETING
MOETING
De stêd wierre grize strjitten, sûkertwirren 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.
© 2003, Albertina Soepboer
From: De fjoerbidders
Publisher: Bornmeer,
From: De fjoerbidders
Publisher: Bornmeer,
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MOETING
De stêd wierre grize strjitten, sûkertwirren 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.
From: De fjoerbidders
ENCOUNTER
The city hung out its gray streets, sugarswirled 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.
© 2003, Susan Massotty
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