Heavenly
Peace
You
were on the Tiananmen Square
when
a new wind was starting to blow there
full
of spring air and cherry blossom, the future
crushed
under the wheels of tanks
-
colics, hard corses of a lava flow -
did
you run, no, but did I run
over
my screen.
I
recognised you later in my country
by
a photo in the newspaper.
Driven
by hate and homesickness you watched
in
my house pictures of the whitewashed square where
what
had happened was no longer shown.
People
who haves eyes are often sad, you said,
swimming
in the sea, where your head
became
a smaller and smaller dot
until
I could only somehow
vaguely
surmise
it.
Men
in a boat showed you the way
back.
Why, you asked, denying the supremacy
of
the sees, surely rinsing off something
must
be done with a great deal of water?
Original title: Hemelse Vrede - From the collection: Verwaaide liefdes, tere vleugels - 1997 - Uitgeverij Tortuca, Rotterdam
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