荷兰 林德纳 Eric Lindener  荷兰   (1968~?)
One poem at a time

Eric Lindener
  Windows give birth to the gap
  Windows give birth to the gap
  Toward the table here
  Immediately
  Rupture
  The table is not in the window
  And to stand beside me
  Fall tablecloth
  To the foot of the table
  The view from the window
  Bent arm's length
  Kink in the elbow of a long and thin
  Drawer: bread crumbs, paper clips
  Steady straight to the table, so that the windows open
  Cardboard wedge
  The box on the table walk
  The floor is like a leg.
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  Your lips with blood
  Your lips with blood
  But the wind still whistled
  Metro is still under the table
  Scroll
  So drop your head
  Even the gentle words
  Your ears are Explosive
  Your hair loose in the
  On the tablecloth
  Photo with your eyes still
  Measurement of light
  Dust in the air shuttle
  Dust down to you
  Too small, not suitable for the table
  Too small, not suitable for wind.
  -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
  To cold
  1
  She last saw him in place.
  (Askance glance
  Opposite traffic.)
  Right foot side suitcase.
  Arm of the jacket.
  He said: her hand in here?
  He sat upright in the boxes.
  One hand resting on her stomach,
  Resting on one hand
  The sun above the wheels turning.
  She will wipe saliva from his lips.
  She hit out of his suit from the sun.
  2
  When the knee has a cigarette filter tip
  Retained in the opening cigarette box,
  She will hand _insert_ed into the V-neck sweater.
  Supraclavicular fingertips.
  Pin on the suit. (Spotlight of milk.)
  Fine lines and socks. Thumb under the edge of brooch.
  Parry made yawn hand rubbing hidden smile.
  Nothing ever escaped her.
  No one has ever escaped her.
  There is no pattern of wiping a dish towel.
  A bread without an oven.
  3
  In such boat trip, I found this delightful birds
  And she said on the crossbar
  Place by hand to cover graffiti.
  Clothes surrounded her neck.
  Makeup on yesterday.
  A gust of wind revealed her ear lobe.
  Rarely with his mouth
  The smell of the ship berth.
  Birds wore frames ticking.
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  Poetry
  Sky man standing under the tree
  Whispered in his eyes the rain flow
  All the clouds are made of marble
  All the leaves have different names.
  Unwilling to yield to this sneaky
  Eternal, is still capable of resistance.
  Once hidden beauty
  Bathroom decor bleeding.
  Him from the pond over the years, with soft, such as
  The voice of wool back his words.
  Before bending the branches in the melody
  Good access can inhibit his strength.
  -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
  When I leave my language the word is no longer
  When I leave my language the word is no longer
  Or making them weak voice, sound, which
  Children are cut
  Her hair spread out in front
  Then know
  More rare ah
  And then stopped to go into a hand.
Translated by Google
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