Albert Hagenaars

The heat burns the city open. As well 
as the time. Reading on the Spanish Steps 
I lose myself in the love of a sick English poet,
that I allow to die in my nearby hotel,
hacking, spitting autumn, still scorching
his lips by the stanzas of a lusty muse.
But in the night, on the whispering Mount Mario,
the city at my feet and her breath rising, still
rising higher, I tenderly re-dream, eroding marble,
the child full of future of another ode,
another now. Time after time I stroke
the cool, hired back. Sealing it off, in vain.
Translation: Catherine East
From the collection CURFEW
WEL-Publications, 2000.

Main Location:

Rome, Italy