Snow Poem by Marcel Beyer

Now which do you mean, the seagulls, the boots
on the dock at night, the snow at night? Trieste
or Turku, Turku, Trieste - where are the flakes,
where are the forms, our soles, treading what down?

Do you mean the glimmer on the edge, the deep,
the look in the eye, the open sea? No
snow, snow, dirt, chewing gum, ice and
no snow - the falling snow is all I remember,
blue hands, blue everything.

Translated by Michael Hofmann