Poem
Christine D’haen
Dodecahedron: Twelve douzains, I
When Time was, we sat and talked, so long as time was;about death. Time had it all, makes time, of time
there is ever more. You are a little baby, now your
little voice still cries, you’ve only just arrived.
One moment I become in being, I knew, always
I knew my roots were there, here now must be torn out,
from earth’s foot: the eye and brain, remain so
delighted still; what was remains, have we lost what never was?
When Time was, we sat, so happily, and talked
about the poem: that in it time, counted by us,
congeals, sparkles, swells with all the has not been,
so we sit there together now the way we sat.
Zurbarán
Hieronymus with Paula and Eustochium
Washington
© Translation: 1995, Ko Kooman
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: Poetry International, Rotterdam, 1995
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: Poetry International, Rotterdam, 1995
This is a meditation on time, seen as without beginning or end. Here on earth, time is limited.
Dodecaëder. Twaalf douzains, I
Dodecaëder. Twaalf douzains, I
Als Tijd was, zaten, praatten wij, zolang tijd was:over de dood. Tijd had alles, maakt tijd, aan tijd
bestaat steeds meer. Je bent een baby’tje, nu schreit
je stemmetje natuurlijk nog, je bent er pas.
Elk ogenblik word ik in zijn, wist ik, altijd
wist ik mijn wortel daar, hier nu moet uitgerukt,
uit aardes voet: het oog en brein, nog zo verrukt
blijven; wat was blijft, zijn wij ’t niet geweeste kwijt?
Als Tijd was, zaten wij, zo vol geluk, en praatten
over ’t gedicht: dat daar de tijd, door ons geteld
stolt, fonkelt, van al ’t niet geweeste zwelt,
dus zitten wij daar samen nu zoals wij zaten.
Zurbarán
Hiëronymus met Paula en Eustochium
Washington
© 2002, Erven Christine D\'haen
From: Miroirs. Gedichten vanaf 1946
Publisher: Querido, Amsterdam
From: Miroirs. Gedichten vanaf 1946
Publisher: Querido, Amsterdam
Is een meditatie over de tijd, gezien als nooit begonnen en nooit ophoudend. Hier op aarde is de tijd beperkt.
Poems
Poems of Christine D’haen
Close
Dodecahedron: Twelve douzains, I
When Time was, we sat and talked, so long as time was;about death. Time had it all, makes time, of time
there is ever more. You are a little baby, now your
little voice still cries, you’ve only just arrived.
One moment I become in being, I knew, always
I knew my roots were there, here now must be torn out,
from earth’s foot: the eye and brain, remain so
delighted still; what was remains, have we lost what never was?
When Time was, we sat, so happily, and talked
about the poem: that in it time, counted by us,
congeals, sparkles, swells with all the has not been,
so we sit there together now the way we sat.
Zurbarán
Hieronymus with Paula and Eustochium
Washington
© 1995, Ko Kooman
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: 1995, Poetry International, Rotterdam
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: 1995, Poetry International, Rotterdam
This is a meditation on time, seen as without beginning or end. Here on earth, time is limited.
Dodecahedron: Twelve douzains, I
When Time was, we sat and talked, so long as time was;about death. Time had it all, makes time, of time
there is ever more. You are a little baby, now your
little voice still cries, you’ve only just arrived.
One moment I become in being, I knew, always
I knew my roots were there, here now must be torn out,
from earth’s foot: the eye and brain, remain so
delighted still; what was remains, have we lost what never was?
When Time was, we sat, so happily, and talked
about the poem: that in it time, counted by us,
congeals, sparkles, swells with all the has not been,
so we sit there together now the way we sat.
Zurbarán
Hieronymus with Paula and Eustochium
Washington
© 1995, Ko Kooman
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: 1995, Poetry International, Rotterdam
From: Festivalcatalogus Poetry International
Publisher: 1995, Poetry International, Rotterdam
This is a meditation on time, seen as without beginning or end. Here on earth, time is limited.
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