Poem
J. Slauerhoff
LETTERS AT SEA
They’re read and read repeatedly,Though readers sensed already what was there,
Woven of one cloth, whatever tongue it be,
And in the long run all equally threadbare.
Still, unfolded again, after their lonely meals,
At night on watch, in bunks, once tales are told;
For those who’ve fought their solitary ordeals,
Such characters nourish as they did of old.
Between ‘my dearest’ and ‘yours ever’ there can be
But one theme – kids, isle, village homes they own –
Which only weddings, births and deaths rephrase.
After so long on board, it seems as if a haze
Shrouds what they know on land, they are alone,
One with the ship, consorting with the sea.
© Translation: 2007, Paul Vincent
BRIEVEN OP ZEE
BRIEVEN OP ZEE
Gelezen worden ze ontelbre malen,Al was de inhoud haast vooruit geweten,
Van ’t zelfde levensstof in alle talen
En op den duur tot op het woord versleten.
Toch weer ontvouwd, na ’t eenzaam avondeten,
Des nachts op wacht, te kooi en na ’t verhalen;
Voor hen die zooveel eenzaamheid verbeten
Is uit de letters leeftocht nog te halen.
Tusschen lieve en liefhebbende steeds staat er
Van kroost, huis, dorp en eiland weer ’t alleen
Bij trouw, geboorte en dood gevarieerd relaas.
Na tal van reizen is het of een waas
’t Bekende aan land omhult, men is alleen
En hoort bij ’t schip en houdt het met het water.
© 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
Close
LETTERS AT SEA
They’re read and read repeatedly,Though readers sensed already what was there,
Woven of one cloth, whatever tongue it be,
And in the long run all equally threadbare.
Still, unfolded again, after their lonely meals,
At night on watch, in bunks, once tales are told;
For those who’ve fought their solitary ordeals,
Such characters nourish as they did of old.
Between ‘my dearest’ and ‘yours ever’ there can be
But one theme – kids, isle, village homes they own –
Which only weddings, births and deaths rephrase.
After so long on board, it seems as if a haze
Shrouds what they know on land, they are alone,
One with the ship, consorting with the sea.
© 2007, Paul Vincent
From: Alle gedichten
From: Alle gedichten
LETTERS AT SEA
They’re read and read repeatedly,Though readers sensed already what was there,
Woven of one cloth, whatever tongue it be,
And in the long run all equally threadbare.
Still, unfolded again, after their lonely meals,
At night on watch, in bunks, once tales are told;
For those who’ve fought their solitary ordeals,
Such characters nourish as they did of old.
Between ‘my dearest’ and ‘yours ever’ there can be
But one theme – kids, isle, village homes they own –
Which only weddings, births and deaths rephrase.
After so long on board, it seems as if a haze
Shrouds what they know on land, they are alone,
One with the ship, consorting with the sea.
© 2007, Paul Vincent
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