Trinity Journal of Literary Translation
The Poetess
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59
trans. Sherence De Jongh I let the flickering of the stars
Burn into my hair and into my eyes, and in the city night with its far
wisdom I hold, in my hand, the traffic lights.
I am head and guardian of my
City, And in the show I am the great dancer, I have never loved you in this glory –
I’m the crown princess, you the messenger. Still, when I see you go like that, You, who after all were my life,
I remain lonely and disillusioned, I remain humanely connected to you.
Ah, let me not be a poet then,
But just like a sweet innocent child
Whom in your arms can finally
lie fearlessly protected against this bitter wind.
Let me be an ignorant little girl,
Who humbly asks you for favours, That the end goal of your body
and mind, will one day carry holy in me.