Wednesday, 14 January 2015

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

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'.