P e t e r T h e u n y n c k
(© English translation: Annmarie Sauer)
CITY POETRY FOR BRUGES
Cities are mad as a hatter old men.
In autumn they drag their feet
as if the weight of the whole world
sticks to their heels. They slide tired
deadly into winter, under snowy
blankets. Ready for total sleep.
How they breathe slow and heavy. How they
keep quieter than the quietest cemetery.
Yet spring sees them wake up red cheeked,