The streets Poem by Erik Spinoy
The streets
Birds fly up
to the unfamiliar branches. The sun
hangs low. Time has revealed itself
and picked leaves, decay - the fruit
of itself, but each time new and
differently. No year is
like another, except in what is
missing, or concealed. Each season is
only itself, and escapes from all
that wears a name. So there is
only this autumn, and that only
for a short time. As the fire
above the burning leaves suddenly
blows out. As the streets are barely wet
after a shower.
No other space to notice this, so I add that here: Congratulations being chosen as The Poet Of The Day. Hoorray for you!
Spinoy is, together with Dirk Van Bastelaere, seen as one of the major representatives of postmodernism in Flemish poetry.
LAST PART OF THE BIO: was awarded the Flemish Debut Prize; his second collection, Susette (1990) , the prestigious Hugues C. Pernath Prize. Partly thanks to the latter volume,
Rest of the BIO: Erik Spinoy is a poet and professor of Dutch literature at the University of Liège. His first collection of poetry, De jagers in de sneeuw (The Hunters in the Snow,1986) ,
I cite your BIO (partly) Spinoy is, together with Dirk Van Bastelaere, seen as one of the major representatives of postmodernism in Flemish poetry.WOW! DUTCH, double Congrats! Professor Spinoy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/29/2024 4:03:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Excellent poem, aptly worded 5 Stars full on TOP! I have enjiyed tremendously.