Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Peter Verhelst

I Am Glad That You

We have left it all behind, for the first time in a long while we feel something,
we are going for a swim in the plain, yes, let us dive in
and after that you will lie on your back on the rock with your eyes wide open.

I thought, it was stronger than I was, what if nothing after all,
what if no-one from a different space or time, what if I wake up
and notice that you’re no longer, what if ultimately absolutely nothing?

As if you lower yourself into a lake you float on your back, wide open. Your fingers move.

Surely it can’t be that this…

Your fingers move. You lie deep on the bottom and coming from your mouth, from so deeply
it comes out of you, so very slowly.
I thought, I couldn’t see another way, as long as she never… As long as I can ever

become something of what you want. From so deeply it comes from the corners of your eyes
and from the corners of your mouth and from your lower back,
from your stomach. Your fingertips move. Your breaking eyes.

Would you always keep doing that for me, those breaking eyes?
And those fingers.

You look, leaning on your elbows, wide open, smiling, keep
looking like that,
as if from a pupa (still wet) you can see a butterfly crawl out.

Ik ben blij dat je

Ik ben blij dat je

We hebben alles achtergelaten, we voelen voor het eerst sinds lang iets,
we gaan in de vlakte zwemmen, ja, laat ons duiken
en daarna ga je op je rug liggen op het rotsblok met je ogen wijdopen.

Ik dacht, het was sterker dan ikzelf, wat als er toch niets,
wat als er niemand uit een andere ruimte of tijd, wat als ik wakker word
en merk dat jij er niet langer, wat als uiteindelijk helemaal niets?

Alsof je je in een meer laat zakken drijf je op je rug, wijd open. Je vingers bewegen.

het kan toch niet dat dit …

Je vingers bewegen. Je ligt diep op de bodem en uit je mond komt, van zo diep komt
het uit je, heel traag.
Ik dacht, ik kon niet anders, als ze maar nooit … Als ik maar ooit

iets kan worden van wat je wilt. Van zo diep komt het uit je ooghoeken
en uit je mondhoeken en uit je onderrug,
uit je buik. Je vingertoppen bewegen. Je brekende ogen.

Wil je dat altijd voor me blijven doen, die brekende ogen?
En die vingers.

Jij kijkt, leunend op je ellenbogen, wijd open, glimlachend, blijf
zo kijken,
alsof je uit een pop (nat nog) een vlinder ziet kruipen.
Close

I Am Glad That You

We have left it all behind, for the first time in a long while we feel something,
we are going for a swim in the plain, yes, let us dive in
and after that you will lie on your back on the rock with your eyes wide open.

I thought, it was stronger than I was, what if nothing after all,
what if no-one from a different space or time, what if I wake up
and notice that you’re no longer, what if ultimately absolutely nothing?

As if you lower yourself into a lake you float on your back, wide open. Your fingers move.

Surely it can’t be that this…

Your fingers move. You lie deep on the bottom and coming from your mouth, from so deeply
it comes out of you, so very slowly.
I thought, I couldn’t see another way, as long as she never… As long as I can ever

become something of what you want. From so deeply it comes from the corners of your eyes
and from the corners of your mouth and from your lower back,
from your stomach. Your fingertips move. Your breaking eyes.

Would you always keep doing that for me, those breaking eyes?
And those fingers.

You look, leaning on your elbows, wide open, smiling, keep
looking like that,
as if from a pupa (still wet) you can see a butterfly crawl out.

I Am Glad That You

We have left it all behind, for the first time in a long while we feel something,
we are going for a swim in the plain, yes, let us dive in
and after that you will lie on your back on the rock with your eyes wide open.

I thought, it was stronger than I was, what if nothing after all,
what if no-one from a different space or time, what if I wake up
and notice that you’re no longer, what if ultimately absolutely nothing?

As if you lower yourself into a lake you float on your back, wide open. Your fingers move.

Surely it can’t be that this…

Your fingers move. You lie deep on the bottom and coming from your mouth, from so deeply
it comes out of you, so very slowly.
I thought, I couldn’t see another way, as long as she never… As long as I can ever

become something of what you want. From so deeply it comes from the corners of your eyes
and from the corners of your mouth and from your lower back,
from your stomach. Your fingertips move. Your breaking eyes.

Would you always keep doing that for me, those breaking eyes?
And those fingers.

You look, leaning on your elbows, wide open, smiling, keep
looking like that,
as if from a pupa (still wet) you can see a butterfly crawl out.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère