{"id":16700,"date":"2022-03-16T16:01:43","date_gmt":"2022-03-16T15:01:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.cityofliterature.nl\/?page_id=16700"},"modified":"2022-03-20T14:04:38","modified_gmt":"2022-03-20T13:04:38","slug":"cities-of-literature-chainpoem","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.cityofliterature.nl\/en\/cities-of-literature-chainpoem\/","title":{"rendered":"UNESCO Cities of Literature Chain poem"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\n\t\tUnesco cities of literature Chain Poem\n\t<\/h2>\n\tUtrecht UNESCO City of Literature<\/a> \u00b7 Dit zijn wachtende dagen \/ These are waiting days<\/a>\n\tMusic\/Sound design: Wietse Leenders<\/a>
\nMastering; Dennis Gaens
\nVoice over: Christiana Steenstra\n

\n\t\tDit zijn wachtende dagen\n\t<\/h2>\n\t

dit zijn wachtende dagen ik heb een weckpot laten vallen wat een klap<\/p>\n

schel rode granaatappelpitjes azuur geruis bastonen en dissonanten braken uit<\/p>\n

en uit het glas rolden over de koude tegels onder keukenkastjes tafels stoelen<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

thir are taigelt days am alwiss greenin fur the sweetie-bottle archive<\/p>\n

pleepsit cubes o cramassie an blaw the streaks o seelent humbugs haudit<\/p>\n

thair ahint the coontertap unbrakkin safe frae sakeless haunds<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\ucc3d\ubb38 \ucee4\ud2bc \uc0ac\uc774\ub85c, \uae43\ubc1c\uc744 \ud754\ub4e4\uba70 \ub4e4\uc5b4\uc624\ub294 \uc544\uce68 \ud587\uc0b4<\/p>\n

\ud478\ub978 \ube5b\uc774 \ub5a0\ub09c \uc9c0 \uc624\ub79c \uc2dd\ud0c1\uc5d0 \uae30\ub300\uc549\uc544<\/p>\n

\ub0b4 \ub208\ube5b\uc5d0 \ub2ec\uc544\uc624\ub974\ub294 \ube75\uc744 \ubc14\ub77c\ubcf4\ub2e4,<\/p>\n

\ucc28\uac00\uc6e0\ub358 \uc9c0\ub09c\ubc24 \uafc8\uc744 \ub5a0\uc62c\ub9b0\ub2e4<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

morning wakes between days, stuttered reminders shaking dust from this stale time.<\/p>\n

either the window or the sky is cracked, birdsong leaking the glass. outside the city is<\/p>\n

shedding night from the bark. I am tired of my throat, of signs, of sleep.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u043c\u044b \u0432\u0441\u0435 \u0432\u0440\u0435\u043c\u044f \u0447\u0435\u0433\u043e-\u0442\u043e \u0436\u0434\u0435\u043c\u00a0 \u0432\u0441\u0442\u0440\u0435\u0447 \u0438\u043b\u0438 \u0440\u0430\u0441\u0441\u0442\u0430\u0432\u0430\u043d\u0438\u0439\u00a0 \u0442\u0435\u043f\u043b\u0430 \u0438\u043b\u0438 \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0445\u043b\u0430\u0434\u044b\u00a0 \u043f\u0443\u0442\u0435\u0448\u0435\u0441\u0442\u0432\u0438\u0439 \u0438\u043b\u0438 \u0432\u043e\u0437\u0432\u0440\u0430\u0449\u0435\u043d\u0438\u044f<\/p>\n

\u043c\u043e\u0439 \u0440\u044b\u0436\u0438\u0439 \u043a\u043e\u0442 \u043b\u043e\u0432\u0438\u0442 \u043f\u044b\u043b\u0438\u043d\u043a\u0438 \u0442\u0430\u043d\u0446\u0443\u044e\u0449\u0438\u0435 \u0432 \u043b\u0443\u0447\u0430\u0445 \u0441\u043e\u043b\u043d\u0446\u0430\u00a0 \u043d\u0430 \u043c\u043e\u0435\u0439 \u043b\u0430\u0434\u043e\u043d\u0438 \u043a\u0430\u043f\u043b\u044f \u043a\u0440\u043e\u0432\u0438\u00a0 \u0437\u0435\u0440\u043d\u043e\u043c \u0433\u0440\u0430\u043d\u0430\u0442\u0430<\/p>\n

\u0443\u0442\u0440\u043e \u0440\u0430\u0441\u043a\u0430\u043b\u044b\u0432\u0430\u0435\u0442\u0441\u044f \u043f\u043e\u043f\u043e\u043b\u0430\u043c \u0434\u043e \u0431\u043e\u043b\u0438 \u0437\u043d\u0430\u043a\u043e\u043c\u043e\u0439 \u043c\u0435\u043b\u043e\u0434\u0438\u0435\u0439 \u0442\u0435\u043b\u0435\u0444\u043e\u043d\u0430<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

die roten samen haben l\u00e4ngst schon ihre spuren hinterlassen in meinem zimmer,<\/p>\n

auf meiner haut. wenn ich jetzt abhebe, teilt sich das leben in zwei ungleiche h\u00e4lften,<\/p>\n

davor, danach. wenn ich jetzt abhebe, teilt sich mein k\u00f6rper, zwischen dir und mir<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\nbetween our fingertips, our complex sea. Of the coffee we were, to who we are.
\nan a ledge like always; staring. Into a city, where the lights keep changing.\n

and you ask, what the hell is happening? I respond with stones, salt and cocktails of my childhood.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\uc545\ubabd \ub4a4, \uc5b4\uba38\ub2c8\uac00 \ud1a0\ub2e5\uc5ec\uc8fc\ub358 \ucc3d \ubc11\uc5d0 \ub2e4\uc2dc \uc528\uc557\uc744 \ubfcc\ub838\uc9c0.<\/p>\n

\uc591\ucca0 \uc9c0\ubd95 \uc704 \ubcd5\uc774 \uc0ac\ub77c\uc9c0\uae30 \uc804 \ub5a0\ub0ac\ub358 \ubaa8\ub4e0 \uc774\ub4e4\uc744 \ubd88\ub7ec \ubaa8\uc544<\/p>\n

\ub2f9\uc2e0\uacfc \ub098\uc758 \uc2dd\ud0c1\uc5d0 \uc549\ud788\uace0 \uc774\uc81c \ucd95\ubc30\uc758 \ub178\ub798\ub97c \ubd80\ub97c \uc2dc\uac04\uc774\ub124.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

to the sun, symbolically still shining, on dark, adapting days,<\/p>\n

stretching rejuvenating rays down damp crevices,<\/p>\n

where sown crimson seeds soon sprout…<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

red blossoms flower as seasons unfold, children inhale<\/p>\n

the warm fragrance forgetting there ever was a blood-longing<\/p>\n

gibbous moon or a season of cold or want or desire<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

after this dream, I sink a knife into the flammable cake on the kitchen table<\/p>\n

where kin ate, baked from soaked traditions for a promised visit,<\/p>\n

the slice now eaten alone, knowing spirits have risen and days continue to spill<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u0442\u0435\u043f\u0435\u0440\u044c \u0432\u043c\u0435\u0441\u0442\u043e \u0433\u0440\u0430\u043d\u0430\u0442\u043e\u0432\u044b\u0445 \u0434\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u044c\u0435\u0432 \u0438\u0437 \u0441\u043d\u0435\u0433\u0430 \u0442\u043e\u0440\u0447\u0430\u0442 \u0432\u0435\u0442\u0440\u044f\u043d\u044b\u0435 \u043c\u0435\u043b\u044c\u043d\u0438\u0446\u044b<\/p>\n

\u043f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u043c\u0430\u043b\u044b\u0432\u0430\u044e\u0442 \u0431\u0435\u043b\u044b\u0439 \u0448\u0435\u043f\u043e\u0442 \u0432 \u0437\u0435\u043b\u0435\u043d\u044b\u0435 \u0433\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0441\u0430<\/p>\n

\u0432\u043e\u0441\u043f\u0435\u0432\u0430\u044e\u0449\u0438\u0435 \u0445\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0434 \u043a\u0430\u043a \u0441\u0430\u043c\u043e\u0435 \u043d\u0430\u0434\u0435\u0436\u043d\u043e\u0435 \u0443\u0431\u0435\u0436\u0438\u0449\u0435<\/p>\n

\n\t\tthese are waiting days\n\t<\/h2>\n\t

I dropped a weck jar what a bang<\/p>\n

shrill red pomegranate seeds azure rustle bass tones and dissonants broke out<\/p>\n

and out of the glass rolled over the cold tiles under kitchen cabinets tables chairs<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

these are muddled days I’m always longing for the sweetie-jar archive<\/p>\n

screeching cubes of crimson and blue the stripes of silent humbugs held<\/p>\n

there behind the countertop unbreaking safe from careless hands<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

between the curtained windows the morning sun flags its way in<\/p>\n

leaning against a table its blue shade long gone<\/p>\n

I stare at the bread heating up from my gaze<\/p>\n

reminded of last night’s cold dream<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

morning wakes between days, stuttered reminders shaking dust from this stale time.<\/p>\n

either the window or the sky is cracked, birdsong leaking the glass. outside the city is<\/p>\n

shedding night from the bark. I am tired of my throat, of signs, of sleep.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

we are always waiting for something either for an encounter or parting for warmth or chill for\u00a0voyages or arrivals<\/p>\n

my red cat is hunting the specks of dust dancing in the sun there is a pomegranate seed of blood\u00a0on my palm<\/p>\n

the painfully familiar phone tune is splitting the morning<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the red seeds have long since left their traces in my room,<\/p>\n

on my skin. if I take off now, life will split into two uneven halves,<\/p>\n

before, after. if I take off now, my body splits, between you and me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\nbetween our fingertips, our complex sea. of the coffee we were, to who we are.
\non a ledge like always; staring. Into a city, where the lights keep changing. \n

and you ask, what the hell is happening? I respond with stones, salt and cocktails\u00a0of my childhood.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\nafter a nightmare, I sowed seeds again under the window where my mom used to pat me.
\nbefore the sunlight on the tin roof disappears, let’s call people who had left altogether and invite them to our table; now, it’s time for a toast.\n

 <\/p>\n

to the sun, symbolically still shining, on dark, adapting days,<\/p>\n

stretching rejuvenating rays down damp crevices,<\/p>\n

where sown crimson seeds soon sprout…<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

red blossoms flower as seasons unfold, children inhale<\/p>\n

the warm fragrance forgetting there ever was a blood-longing<\/p>\n

gibbous moon or a season of cold or want or desire<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

after this dream, I sink a knife into the flammable cake on the kitchen table<\/p>\n

where kin ate, baked from soaked traditions for a promised visit,<\/p>\n

the slice now eaten alone, knowing spirits have risen and days continue to spill<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

now windmills stick out of the snow instead of pomegranate trees<\/p>\n

they grind white whispers into green voices<\/p>\n

singing of the cold as the surest refuge<\/p>\n

\n\t\tAbout the poem\n\t<\/h2>\n\t

To celebrate World Poetry Day UNESCO City of Literature started an international chain poem on 21 March 2021. Since then each month a poet and translator from the cities\u00a0Edinburgh,\u00a0Wonju, Melbourne, Odessa, Heidelberg,\u00a0Manchester,\u00a0Bucheon,\u00a0Durban,\u00a0Dunedin,\u00a0Ulyanovsk and Utrecht\u00a0added three original lines. The poem grew larger and more impressive with every new month. Utrecht poet Yentl van Stokkum, together with translator Mia You, provided a final stanza, with which the poem has returned to Utrecht after a year, on World Poetry Day 2022.<\/p>\n

All the poets made a recording of their part of the chain poem in original language. Writer and audio artist Wietse Leenders<\/a> turned these recordings into an audio piece.<\/p>\n

In 2021 the chain poem was initiated as a as a poetic study of multilingualism and polyphony. What happens when poets from different parts of the world react to each other? What gets ‘lost in translation’? But above all: what happens when we listen carefully to one another.<\/p>\n

\n\t\tMeet the makers\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t1. Utrecht\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t\n\t\t2. Edinburgh\n\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Yentl\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Mia\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"\u00a9Tod\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n

\n\t\t\n\t\t3. Wonju\n\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t\n\t\t4. Melbourne\n\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Kim\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Sung\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Evelyn\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n

\n\t\t\n\t\t5. Odessa\n\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t\n\t\t6. Heidelberg\n\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Anna\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Anzhelika\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Miriam\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n

\n\t\t7. Manchester\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t8. Bucheon\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Rory\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Kyungsook\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Eun-Gwi\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n

\n\t\t9. Durban\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t10. Dunedin\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Adiela\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Annie\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n

\n\t\t11. Nottingham\n\t<\/h2>\n

\n\t\t12. Ulyanovsk\n\t<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"Ioney\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\"photo\n\t\t\t\t<\/a>\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Unesco cities of literature Chain Poem Utrecht UNESCO City of Literature \u00b7 Dit zijn wachtende dagen \/ These are waiting days Music\/Sound design: Wietse Leenders Mastering; Dennis Gaens Voice over:…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":27,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-16700","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","odd"],"yoast_head":"\nUNESCO Cities of Literature Chain poem - City of Literature<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.cityofliterature.nl\/en\/cities-of-literature-chainpoem\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"UNESCO Cities of Literature Chain poem - City of Literature\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Unesco cities of literature Chain Poem Utrecht UNESCO City of Literature \u00b7 Dit zijn wachtende dagen \/ These are waiting days Music\/Sound design: Wietse Leenders Mastering; 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