THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE FOR A NATION

The mountains smoke from the autumn
Fires they stoke, and all the trees
Have ruby cheeks from the
Glow. I was going to the North
Through the darkening forests of
Europe, rusting in the autumn,
Rusty with cars, through villages
Without sidewalks, like chasms; the
Long shadow of October
Already dwells there. Along neural

Pathways that pass through the valleys –
In the gray of highways and of
Trains and everything’s wet with rain –
The metallic gulf stream
Of the traffic pulsates. The West is
Lonely now the millennium
Has ended. What is sweeping away
The clouds, the web of industry,
And blowing in from the fields
Is a womanly wind.

Poem: Elly de Waard, from A wilderness of interconnections

Vertaling: Wanda Boeke