Blijf altijd op de hoogte!
Schrijf je in voor onze nieuwsbrief en blijft altijd op de hoogte van het laatste nieuws over de Bildtse Aardappelweken.
Menu
Potato-fingers
Your voice is calling me
from an aroma-filled kitchen,
the pages of a book unfolding on the blankets.
What are you cooking, gran? Words echo in the staircase
as feet scurry up the stairs –
absorbing the sound of a groaning stomach.
You didn’t hear me. Smells great, gran!
The potato-fingers are crackling in oil
perking with their siblings,
the onion and the garlic.
(I stole a finger
as you’d give me your back.
You know, though.
You know that it sears my mouth.)
In the frying pan potato-fingers
harden, gran, like your fingers
peeling them. Your fingers are furrowed,
and potatoes are wheel-shaped, sometimes.
They know the scrubbing, the dusting, the cooking,
but not the yearning in our belly –
Where are your siblings?
Translation from the Maltese by Claudia Gauci
Potato-fingers
Your voice is calling me
from an aroma-filled kitchen,
the pages of a book unfolding on the blankets.
What are you cooking, gran? Words echo in the staircase
as feet scurry up the stairs –
absorbing the sound of a groaning stomach.
You didn’t hear me. Smells great, gran!
The potato-fingers are crackling in oil
perking with their siblings,
the onion and the garlic.
(I stole a finger
as you’d give me your back.
You know, though.
You know that it sears my mouth.)
In the frying pan potato-fingers
harden, gran, like your fingers
peeling them. Your fingers are furrowed,
and potatoes are wheel-shaped, sometimes.
They know the scrubbing, the dusting, the cooking,
but not the yearning in our belly –
Where are your siblings?
Translation from the Maltese by Claudia Gauci
Potato-fingers
Your voice is calling me
from an aroma-filled kitchen,
the pages of a book unfolding on the blankets.
What are you cooking, gran? Words echo in the staircase
as feet scurry up the stairs –
absorbing the sound of a groaning stomach.
You didn’t hear me. Smells great, gran!
The potato-fingers are crackling in oil
perking with their siblings,
the onion and the garlic.
(I stole a finger
as you’d give me your back.
You know, though.
You know that it sears my mouth.)
In the frying pan potato-fingers
harden, gran, like your fingers
peeling them. Your fingers are furrowed,
and potatoes are wheel-shaped, sometimes.
They know the scrubbing, the dusting, the cooking,
but not the yearning in our belly –
Where are your siblings?
Translation from the Maltese by Claudia Gauci
Schrijf je in voor onze nieuwsbrief en blijft altijd op de hoogte van het laatste nieuws over de Bildtse Aardappelweken.
Extra voorstelling op woensdag 5 juli.
6, 7 en 8 juli zijn uitverkocht.
Vol = vol!