DISPLACEMENT: A NEW DAY

a nEW dAY

    The new day rises  

    From dark purple and blue  

    A star here and there.  

    The moon shines wearily.  

    The night glides away swiftly,  

    The light brings shadows along. 

 

    A loving song of a lark   

    Connects space and time.  

     

    A stern clock strikes six,  

    The heavy door slides away   

    And opens the door.  

    Two children show up,  

    Are given milk and bread.  

 

    The shopping street gets crowded, 

    The sun has no chance.  

    Red and green neon light,  

    Footsteps resound   

    On full blast music.   

 

    Further on in a corner   

    a man without legs,   

    having a soft plaintive voice  

    shows picture postcards.        

 

    the street is slowly abandoned,  

    the voice no longer heard.  

   Where have the children gone? 

 

    The sun turns pink and red 

    With streaks of gold and red   

    Where questions are silent,   

    Which do not betray dreams.    

 Ankie van der Ben
(Translated by C. Wepster)

displacement open call poets corner

Ankie van der Ben is a Dutch poet of Heswall Quaker Meeting, who moved to England two years ago. Ankie started to write poetry on her Christmas cards that but soon her poems became autobiographic. The poem ‘A New Day’ was originally written in Dutch when Ankie lived in Brussels. Soon Ankie will celebrate her 80th birthday and she continues to write.

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One thought on “DISPLACEMENT: A NEW DAY

  1. Leaveners says:

    Le fin est le commencement
    Guillaume de Machaut

    Between the trees without leaves
    the sandy path crawls and winds,
    the sun lays down patches of gold.
    The thin branches up high
    weave
    and intertwine.
    Small gleaming red buds
    roguishly pierce the air.
    The wind plays with dry, dead leaves.

    The night brings along different hues,
    from purple to blue and dark green.
    The moon shines with a careful yellow.
    An owl leers at a grey mouse.

    The night glides off the hemisphere.
    The trees are full of leaves,
    the path is hardly to be seen.
    Here and there sunlight patches.

    The thin branches intertwine,
    between the trees dead leaf falls…

    Le fin est le commencement.
    Guillaume de Machaut

    Ankie van der Ben
    Neston, UK
    March 2016

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