Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jan Glas

SUNDAY REST

We had our own supply of words
and knew what each and
every word was for,
 
we placed them close to each other;
between the words
you had nothing to say,
 
there unrelentingly
Sunday rest reigned.
 
In the evening the curtains from
before the war were drawn.

ZUNDAGSRUST

Wij hadden onze eigen voorraad woorden
en wisten van elk woord
waar het voor was,

we zetten ze dicht tegen elkaar;
tussen de woorden
had je niets te vertellen,

daar heerste onverbiddelijk
de zondagsrust.

’s Avonds gingen de gordijnen van
voor de oorlog dicht.

ZUNDAGSRUST

Wie haren onze aigen veurroad woorden
en wizzen van elk woord
woar t veur was,
 
wie zetten ze stief tegen mekoar;
tussen de woorden
haren je niks te vertellen,
 
doar heerste onverbiddelk
de zundagsrust.
 
Soavends gingen de gerdienen van
veur de oorlog dicht.
Close

SUNDAY REST

We had our own supply of words
and knew what each and
every word was for,
 
we placed them close to each other;
between the words
you had nothing to say,
 
there unrelentingly
Sunday rest reigned.
 
In the evening the curtains from
before the war were drawn.

SUNDAY REST

We had our own supply of words
and knew what each and
every word was for,
 
we placed them close to each other;
between the words
you had nothing to say,
 
there unrelentingly
Sunday rest reigned.
 
In the evening the curtains from
before the war were drawn.
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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
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Versopolis
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