Poem by the Dutch writer Anna Enquist

Game

She chases me, she sends me

shiny tiles and deep water, green

birds are perkily after my liver.

I hide in glowing meadows, I conceal

myself at the mountain rim. Her underground

whistling is almost audible, yes,

she chases me. If there’s a hunter

he’s wearing my coat. I catch her

scent in which I would choke. As long

as in the hunt’s masque I continue to have faith

she will exist. When the curtain falls

I look a fool there with arrow and bow.