Zijnstra Inc.

By HESTER KNIBBE

Translated by JACQUELYN POPE
In love everything is possible. You doggedly
paper a tree with roses
and say: this was the place
and everyone who passes should

know it. Or someone decides: this deadweight
can’t be lifted any longer, I’ll set it
like stone at the foot of the cliff, but
it doesn’t make walking or breathing
any easier. The asphalt that bridges the river
points up high, the radio
sings Ach and Oh and on the truck
in front of me, shamelessly written
in the day’s filth, it says Now that you’re no longer here
you’re closer than ever before.
Exactly so. Who
had the guts, with a single finger in dust, to clear
the way for the most faithful? Soon
the bridge will open, the row will set forth
in obedient motion and I’ll pass
the purified sludge of Zijnstra Inc.
and a declaration of love written in mud.

 

Hester Knibbe was born in 1946 in Harderwijk, The Netherlands. Her poems have been widely published and have received numerous national awards, including the A. Roland Holst prize in 2009. Her most recent books are Oogesteen, a selection of her work from 1982-2008, and Het hebben van schaduw, both published by De Arbeiderspers, Amsterdam.

Jacquelyn Pope is the author of Watermark. Hungerpots, her translations of the Dutch poet Hester Knibbe, is forthcoming. She is the recipient of a 2015 NEA Translation Fellowship, a PEN/Heim Translation Fund grant, and awards from the Academy of American Poets and the Massachusetts Cultural Council.

[Purchase your copy of Issue 02 here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Zijnstra Inc.

Related Posts

Caribbean picture

Self-Portrait in The Caribbean

PAOLA ASSAD BARBARINO
Sometimes I am emboldened, / I decide to stand in the people’s balcony / I decide it is Maundy Thursday I decide to place a priest behind me that can speak to the people behind / my back / I decide to put out the fire and light my throat / scream

Feltspade

ELIAS SADAQ
I serve out my conscription / sleep in a bunk bed / for four cold months / in the engineer regiment at Skive Garrison / in a room with three other men / I fuck the colonel / the only sign that time is passing / is a pile of snow outside the window / that grows smaller

Book cover of Fifty Mothers

Mother is a Kind of Holding: Jenny Qi interviews Preeti Vangani

PREETI VANGANI
With vignettes, I could plumb its narrative arc to become a force propelling the book forward. It also felt haunting yet warm that the mothers kept reappearing throughout the life of this grief. That repetition created a chorus of voices that angers and despairs, yet cradles the speaker.