Poem
Lucebert
THE VERY OLD ONE SINGS:
there is not more in littlenor is there less
still is uncertain what was
what is to be will be will-less
first when it is it is serious
fruitless it recollects itself
and stays in great haste
everything of worth is defenceless
grows rich from touchability
and equal to everything
like the heart of time
like the heart of time
© Translation: 2011, Diane Butterman
DE ZEER OUDE ZINGT:
DE ZEER OUDE ZINGT:
er is niet meer bij weinignoch is er minder
nog is onzeker wat er was
wat wordt wordt willoos
eerst als het is is het ernst
het herinnert zich heilloos
en blijft ijlings
alles van waarde is weerloos
wordt van aanraakbaarheid rijk
en aan alles gelijk
als het hart van de tijd
als het hart van de tijd
© 2002, De Bezige Bij
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
First published in 1954
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
Publisher: De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Lucebert
Close
THE VERY OLD ONE SINGS:
there is not more in littlenor is there less
still is uncertain what was
what is to be will be will-less
first when it is it is serious
fruitless it recollects itself
and stays in great haste
everything of worth is defenceless
grows rich from touchability
and equal to everything
like the heart of time
like the heart of time
© 2011, Diane Butterman
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
First published in 1954
From: Verzamelde Gedichten
THE VERY OLD ONE SINGS:
there is not more in littlenor is there less
still is uncertain what was
what is to be will be will-less
first when it is it is serious
fruitless it recollects itself
and stays in great haste
everything of worth is defenceless
grows rich from touchability
and equal to everything
like the heart of time
like the heart of time
© 2011, Diane Butterman
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère