The Kitchen, Poem by Emile Verhaeren

Poem by Emile Verhaeren Period 19th century

At the back, the pot-hanger had its hook hung down,
The hearth sparkled like a red pool,
And its flames, ceaselessly biting the fireback,
Gnawed there an obscene figure in cast iron.

The fire rejoiced beneath the mantle stretched
Over it, like an awning above a stall,
Whose bright knickknacks of wood, tin, and lacquer
Crackled less to the eyes than the twisted blaze.

The rays escaped like a jet of emeralds,
And here and there, everywhere, gave flicks
Of vivid light to the glass pitchers, the enameled dishes,

To see on every relief a spark fall,
One would have said — so much did the fire crumble piece by piece —
That sunlight was being winnowed through a stained-glass window.

Emile Verhaeren

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