March 2025

Simon Oosting was the RIXT Poet of the Month in March. You can find the translation of his poem ‘On the line’ below. The original Frisian poem is linked here.

Photo: Simon Oosting
On the line

i) (on China)

like the old poet said
grey and brown the land and
graves along the roads
and everywhere people
in excess


ii) (love worn-out)

she was one of the hippies
in sixty-eight
with ribbons on her skirt and
a band around her hair
which was as free as her

love not war

no

now she is a limp blanket
on an electric bike
who barks at me
I’m in her way
walking with my suitcases
on the cycle path

worn-out
love

no is

now is
an awfully thin line
between then and later

now is
no love


iii) (uncertainty principle)

the train was going to Leiden
and if I
cat in the box
had remained seated
I would have gone into the past

now I alight at Schiphol
and enter China


iv) (procession)

as we travel so we live
we are where we are
the things
whatever they may be

a square a park
an abandoned village
a grandfather who sings about Mao
and plays the Erhu
the temple of the snake

pass me by in a procession

others are standing at the forbidden city
in queues of about one and a half kilometre


v) (Schrödinger’s cat)

Schrödinger’s cat lives with us
he rubs against my legs


vi) (diamonds and rust)

what once was coal has become diamonds
what is shiny metal will turn into rust


vii) (sublimation)

the boundary between ice and vapour contain no water
that’s why the now doesn’t exist in the sublimation of was and will be

now is a dream


viii) (Qinghe Station)

two men are filling a machine
with water cola cold tea
the first one takes the tiny bottles

one after another

out of small boxes
the second one has a pen and is writing
on a strip of paper
for each bottle

a mark


ix) (near Zhangjiakou)

in between tradition and modernity
the villages are emptying out
and a shepherd is happy
with a bar of chocolate


x) (Beijing New Year)

the snake
its lanterns are like balloons
caught on the thousands of balconies

of skyscrapers
in the
city’s skyline

we camp out on a strip
of land we know
can’t sit still
it drifts in the direction
of the skyscrapers
coming unmistakably closer
to the gravestones
along the roads of
the grey and brown land

now is then and there
the last resting place

of the cat


© Simon Oosting
translation: Simon Oosting & Trevor Scarse

February 2025

Jan Kooistra was the RIXT poet of the month in February. His poem ‘already February’ is translated below. You can read his original Frisian poems here.

Photo: Jan Kooistra
already February

no moon, no stars, as if still December, frosty fog
and sounds of traveling geese, from faraway the
last signs of village life drift over as his torch
lights his search for a dog vanished into the dark

bushes, abruptly they light up, two red-hot eyes
in the night like a Wolf God from times dusty and
distant which spark thoughts of purification feasts
a time of reconciliation, temple doors closed, no

music allowed, merely the nightly vigil among the dead,
he crosses the bridge and hears the dark stream murmur
how time flies, where have the years gone that he lost
anxiety takes hold, not to mention today’s news, those

horrible images, they stay with him, those potentates who
bring death and destruction, never have enough, he would
like to chain them to a rock and leave them for the crows
but he can’t, as invisible as his sign in the northern sky

back in the village he quickens his step, even the dog wants
to return home, he locks the door and puts out the fire, you
coming, he hears her call, no need to say that twice, he
enters the bedroom, disrobes and holds on to her tightly


© Jan Kooistra
translation: Trevor Scarse