EXIT III – Eclipse

Gepubliceerd op

— Geplaatst in poëzie, vrij vers

(Trans­la­tion: Peter Mason)

EXIT III – Eclipse
What if I lay my forehead gently on yours
And my whis­pe­ring thoughts drip into your soul?
What if I hone my words on your stone thoughts,
Wil­fully con­fu­sed? What then?

Should you then not sing them out loud,
Free to show them off as your toys,
Mas­ter of my lan­gu­age for ever?
And what then, I won­der? What for?

Never had I expec­ted you here, half lying in my lap,
Twis­ting on the floor full of sur­ren­der and unbelief.
Never could I have seen how heavy this bur­den would prove to be:
With one hand I could not raise you until you rose of your own accord.

And while you care­les­sly love, laugh and expect,
Doubt asks me: Where is this going,
What does it mean? Who am I in this pro­ces­sion for two?
What may I do just because I can?

I am the dread thun­der­cloud, almighty lightning,
While you, unsus­pec­ting, bathe your body in the sunlight.
Am I the earth that eclip­ses the moon? The black sun?
And you a dazz­ling white full moon?

Here I have clai­med my due and over­played my hand.
Here the sun has scor­ched the earth and cast the moon away
Like a dis­cus. With astro­no­mi­cal pre­ci­sion I touched
Your nip­ples and set your body your soul on fire.

I am the fal­len angel, the elo­quent messenger,
But never will I for­get how I stam­me­red at the sight and you
You loo­ked up at me and I I drow­ned you in tears and you,
You gyre in eter­nal orbit around the dark.

Sea­red and never more never more…
And never never more more what was true.
And still just more more what was ever true…
And more more of what was still just ash.

Antony Oomen