Dam

Where I unexpected find entry
children's boots hack runnels in the ground
tear open what had silted up
traces need to be revealed

from when I called the yards home base
was nourished by the orchards’ fruit
the soft hands’ bounty
drank from shards, and baskets were my throne

one time an old man walked into the ditch
which we had been so warned about
you’ll never get out!
how could he not know that

when I still dwelt among queen anne’s lace
frog leaping after others
was set atop a wagonload, swaying
through channels, driven home before the storm

had an asthmatic cousin from Zwolle
who seldom came down
and only the cattle were driven
on the dam up the road, to new pasture. 

Translation, by Renée van Weringh/Janneke Spoelstra, of the poem 'Daam' (Rattapallax 13, 2006)