Poem
Remco Campert
1944
In the sweltering green countrysideplanes on fire in the blue sky
stood the milk churn
that I stirred with my boy’s strong arms
making butter
to earn a pound of wheat
stole furtive looks at the country girl
who already had breasts
it was the last summer of the war
the trains no longer ran
only murder showed up on time
a day’s journey away
in the bleak house in The Hague
my mother was watching from the window
when the German officer rang the neighbours’ bell
she counted the friends she still had
hidden behind the living-room walls
I’d almost forgotten her
past and future meant nothing to me
All I cared about was the day at hand
my time hadn’t yet come
that it would ever be over
was something I couldn’t even imagine
© Translation: 2007, Donald Gardner
1944
1944
In het hete groene landschapbrandende vliegtuigen in de blauwe lucht
stond de karnton
waarin ik boter maakte
met mijn jongensspieren
verdiende ik een pondje tarwe
tersluiks keek ik naar de boerendeerne
die al borsten had
het was de zomer voor de verandering
treinen zouden niet meer rijden
alleen moorden gingen door
een dagreis van mij af
keek mijn moeder uit het raam
van het bleke Haagse huis
terwijl de Duitse officier belde bij de buren
telde ze de vrienden die nog restten
die zich schuilhielden achter behang
ik was haar al bijna vergeten
dacht niet verder terug of vooruit
dan de dag die dichtbij lag
mijn eeuw moest nog beginnen
dat die eens voorbij zou zijn
kon ik niet bedenken
© 2007, Remco Campert
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Poems
Poems of Remco Campert
Close
1944
In the sweltering green countrysideplanes on fire in the blue sky
stood the milk churn
that I stirred with my boy’s strong arms
making butter
to earn a pound of wheat
stole furtive looks at the country girl
who already had breasts
it was the last summer of the war
the trains no longer ran
only murder showed up on time
a day’s journey away
in the bleak house in The Hague
my mother was watching from the window
when the German officer rang the neighbours’ bell
she counted the friends she still had
hidden behind the living-room walls
I’d almost forgotten her
past and future meant nothing to me
All I cared about was the day at hand
my time hadn’t yet come
that it would ever be over
was something I couldn’t even imagine
© 2007, Donald Gardner
1944
In the sweltering green countrysideplanes on fire in the blue sky
stood the milk churn
that I stirred with my boy’s strong arms
making butter
to earn a pound of wheat
stole furtive looks at the country girl
who already had breasts
it was the last summer of the war
the trains no longer ran
only murder showed up on time
a day’s journey away
in the bleak house in The Hague
my mother was watching from the window
when the German officer rang the neighbours’ bell
she counted the friends she still had
hidden behind the living-room walls
I’d almost forgotten her
past and future meant nothing to me
All I cared about was the day at hand
my time hadn’t yet come
that it would ever be over
was something I couldn’t even imagine
© 2007, Donald Gardner
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