What night does to a harbour

Weightless glinting water

the harbour lights sway

fisher boats lie

anchored in blue


A man, unstirring heron

sits cast in bronze

in his hand a dip-net

that leaks oiled daylight


he stirs, strikes hard

a splash, but nothing

other than his silhouette and net

and the river’s wrinkles


So empty it has now become

that someone sprinkles stars

and the intimate clamour calls to me

that blows in gusts from bars afar



Translation: Willem Groenewegen, Ich bin / I am (2012)