THE BALLAD OF SLOWNESS Poem by Herman de Coninck

THE BALLAD OF SLOWNESS

Rating: 5.0


I love the slowness of lying on grass, like a king:
me, looking out and surveying my adherents,
my extremities, telling my left arm:
you there, convey my hand to my mouth
that I might yawn, that's right,
and now lie down again, excellent,
I must have discipline.

I love the slowness of being,
Zen, they say in the East, I believe
it's the same thing.
I love the slowness of lying in bed,
you next to me, with your knees behind
my knees, like a double S, the slowness with which
you haven't told me yet that you're awake,
your responsiveness consisting of lips,
the slowness with which I come faster and faster,
the calmness with which I grow wilder and wilder,
the slowness of your diplomatic body
that gives and takes, your corps diplomatique,

and the slowness of a cigar afterwards,
the slowness of grandeur, the slowness of someone
smashing his car into a tree in slow
motion, the majesty of explosion, solemn,
solemnly ends this life.


Translation: 2008, David Colmer

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 06 December 2017

The majesty of explosion, solemnly ends life, great write

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Herman de Coninck

Herman de Coninck

Mechelen, Belgium
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