Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Øyvind Rimbereid

ROSE I

In the Lufthansa flight on her way home from Milan
seven thousand metres above the Alps
she rests her head against the window,
worried about her first assignment for Nortrade.
Soon she dozes, and half-dreaming
she is already over Skagerrak.
But in the handbag under her seat
lies the rose
the Italian contact
bought for her at dinner the night before.
It lies protected
inside Monday’s Milano Finanza
she had hoped she would manage to read.
Innermost, between the light pressure
of the petals,
a yellow larva keeps wriggling.
So: airborne woman, rose and larva.

ROOS I

In het Lufthansa-toestel naar huis vanuit Milaan
zevenduizend meter boven de Alpen
rust ze haar hoofd tegen het raampje,
bezorgd over haar eerste opdracht voor Nortrade.
Al snel sluimert ze en half dromend
is ze al boven het Skagerrak.
Maar in de handtas onder de stoel
ligt de roos
die de Italiaanse contactpersoon
de vorige avond tijdens het diner voor haar kocht.
Hij ligt beschut
in de maandageditie van Milano Finanza
die ze nog had willen lezen.
Binnenin, onder de lichte druk
van de kroonbladen,
kronkelt nog een gele larve.
Dus: vrouw in vliegtuig, roos en larve.

ROSE I

I Lufthansa-flyet på vei hjem fra Milano,
syv tusen meter over Alpene,
hviler hun hodet mot vinduet,
bekymret over sitt første oppdrag for Nortrade.
Snart slumrer hun, og halvt i drømme
er hun allerede over Skagerrak.
Men i håndvesken under setet
ligger rosen
som den italienske kontakten
kjøpte til henne under middagen kvelden før.
Den ligger beskyttet
inni mandagens Milano Finanza
hun hadde håpet hun ville greie å lese.
Innerst, mellom kronbladenes
lette press,
bukter stadig en gul larve seg.
Altså: flygende kvinne, rose og larve.
Close

ROSE I

In the Lufthansa flight on her way home from Milan
seven thousand metres above the Alps
she rests her head against the window,
worried about her first assignment for Nortrade.
Soon she dozes, and half-dreaming
she is already over Skagerrak.
But in the handbag under her seat
lies the rose
the Italian contact
bought for her at dinner the night before.
It lies protected
inside Monday’s Milano Finanza
she had hoped she would manage to read.
Innermost, between the light pressure
of the petals,
a yellow larva keeps wriggling.
So: airborne woman, rose and larva.

ROSE I

In the Lufthansa flight on her way home from Milan
seven thousand metres above the Alps
she rests her head against the window,
worried about her first assignment for Nortrade.
Soon she dozes, and half-dreaming
she is already over Skagerrak.
But in the handbag under her seat
lies the rose
the Italian contact
bought for her at dinner the night before.
It lies protected
inside Monday’s Milano Finanza
she had hoped she would manage to read.
Innermost, between the light pressure
of the petals,
a yellow larva keeps wriggling.
So: airborne woman, rose and larva.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère