II
I am an orphan.
My mother is not the earth.
I am born in fear’s lap.
I gladly show myself
and cry as I am supposed to.
My Apgar score is allright.
Did I abandon myself
when scissors
cut the umbilical cord?
I look at the world
somewhat childlike, often spit out
a mouthful of mother’s milk.
Did I show myself too much
when I got separated
from the source?
Will a normal
being ever
dwell inside me?
I am a strange man
on a strange planet and I
never knew that this was my place.
XVII
I can’t wrap my aura
like a peel
around you.
You use your left hand
to rub circles on my right hand
and I admit
that I can look
through human beings.
I whisper a small tune
so I can fill up
the lack.
Large is the space
that I take up.
Translation: Sanne Greijdanus
II
Ik bin in wees.
Myn mem is net de ierde.
Ik bin berne yn de skurte fan eangst.
Ik lit my graach sjen
en gûl sa as it heart.
Myn Apgar skoare is okee.
Ha ik mysels ferlitten
doe’t in skjirre
de nâlestring trochknipte?
Ik kypje wat skilich
de wrâld yn, spui gauris
in mûltsje memmemolke út.
Ha ik mysels tefolle sjen litten
doe’t ik fan de boarne
skieden waard?
Fart der oait
in gewoan
wêzen yn my?
Ik bin in frjemde man
op in frjemde planeet en ha
noait witten dat dit myn plak wie.
XVII
Ik kin myn aura
net as in skyl
om dy hinne dwaan.
Do wriuwst mei de lofterhân
rûntsjes oer myn rjochterhân
en ik beken
dat ik troch de mins
hinne sjen kin.
Ik flústerje in rideltsje
sadat ik it tekoart
wer oanfolje.
Grut is de romte
dy’t ik ynnim.
© Elmar Kuiper
Stienkeal (Bornmeer, 2018)