The Gardener

The Gardener Charitable she walks around with the harp of her rake with scooping shovel She sends slugs back to their saunas chase wood lice escalator up                   escalator down into the basement- departments of their shadowy emporiums Because she's on earth for this purpose to sculpture out of light with hoe, with garden-shears, with fork flower beds, lawns, arbours museums for the wind tolerant stillnesses as if suddenly from the darkness of her pond, prince Frog plunges a sound aged with peace...very short in this poem of the gardener in Ireland, early 21st century.

Photos © Hans van den Bos, Ireland

This poem is a free translation into English, by Hans van den Bos, of Manuel Kneepken's poem 'Hovenier'. Hans van den Bos' original translation of this poem can be found on the blog 'Poetry from the Low Countries' on page 'Trompenburg'.