Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Herman Gorter

The trees were all still

*


The trees were all still,
the sky was grey
the hills without will
lay in strange array.

The men were busy at toil
all about the place
as if digging treasure from soil,
though with measured pace.

Across the world’s face
things were probably alike,
the world and the human race
are scarcely alive.

I walked and watched the scene
scared and content,
below, ever loyal and keen,
my footsteps went.

*

*


De boomen waren stil,
de lucht was grijs,
de heuvelen zonder wil
lagen op vreemde wijs.

De mannen werkten wat
rondom in de aard,
als groeven ze een schat,
maar kalm en bedaard.

Over de aarde was
waarschijnlijk alles zoo,
de wereld en \'t menschgewas
ze leven nauw.

Ik liep het aan te zien
bang en tevreden,
mijn voeten als goede lien
liepen beneden.
Close

The trees were all still

*


The trees were all still,
the sky was grey
the hills without will
lay in strange array.

The men were busy at toil
all about the place
as if digging treasure from soil,
though with measured pace.

Across the world’s face
things were probably alike,
the world and the human race
are scarcely alive.

I walked and watched the scene
scared and content,
below, ever loyal and keen,
my footsteps went.

The trees were all still

*


The trees were all still,
the sky was grey
the hills without will
lay in strange array.

The men were busy at toil
all about the place
as if digging treasure from soil,
though with measured pace.

Across the world’s face
things were probably alike,
the world and the human race
are scarcely alive.

I walked and watched the scene
scared and content,
below, ever loyal and keen,
my footsteps went.
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