The Old Man

An old man in the street
his simple tale to the old woman
it's nothing it sounds like a tenuous tragedy
his voice is white
it resembles a knife that's been whetted for so long
the steel has worn thin
This voice hangs outside him like an object
above his long black coat
The lean old man in his black coat
is like a black plant
At the sight fear rasps through your mouth
the first taste of a narcosis.

Translated by James Holmes
(Contributed by Rozita on Wednesday, February 9th, 2011)
 
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Belgian Literature

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