Poem
J. Slauerhoff
THE WOMAN AT THE WINDOW
The gate never opens. The window’s so highThat at first panoramas to her appear:
Rivers, blue arcs, embrace woods and flow by;
Red birds traverse the green, and slender deer.
She’s no idea of how life’s lived below;
It must be splendid, though, so long she’s pined.
She wants embraces, but where can kisses go
Save her own shoulder, round and cool and kind?
© Translation: 2007, Paul Vincent
DE VROUW AAN HET VENSTER
DE VROUW AAN HET VENSTER
Nooit opent zich de poort. ’t Raam is zoo hoogDat zij eerst de aarde ziet in wijde verte:
De stroom omarmt het bosch in blauwen boog;
Door ’t groen gaan roode vogels, ranke herten.
Niets weet zij van het levensspel daartusschen;
Maar het moet schoon zijn, want zij mist het zeer.
Zij wil omhelzen, vindt niets om te kussen
Dan de eigen schouder, rond en koel en teer.
© 1998, Erven J. Slauerhoff / K. Lekkerkerker / Uitgeverij Nijgh & Van Ditmar
From: Alle gedichten
Publisher: Nijgh & Van Ditmar, Amsterdam
From: Alle gedichten
Publisher: Nijgh & Van Ditmar, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of J. Slauerhoff
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THE WOMAN AT THE WINDOW
The gate never opens. The window’s so highThat at first panoramas to her appear:
Rivers, blue arcs, embrace woods and flow by;
Red birds traverse the green, and slender deer.
She’s no idea of how life’s lived below;
It must be splendid, though, so long she’s pined.
She wants embraces, but where can kisses go
Save her own shoulder, round and cool and kind?
© 2007, Paul Vincent
From: Alle gedichten
From: Alle gedichten
THE WOMAN AT THE WINDOW
The gate never opens. The window’s so highThat at first panoramas to her appear:
Rivers, blue arcs, embrace woods and flow by;
Red birds traverse the green, and slender deer.
She’s no idea of how life’s lived below;
It must be splendid, though, so long she’s pined.
She wants embraces, but where can kisses go
Save her own shoulder, round and cool and kind?
© 2007, Paul Vincent
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