Poem
John Ashbery
POSTLUDE AND PREQUEL
NAWOORD EN VOORGESCHIEDENIS
Zou ik tegen je liegen? Ik weet niet wat ik zeggen moet,en het is nu juist het seizoen voor het seizoen
der langverwachte woorden van toen we vrienden
waren en nog altijd zijn, natuurlijk, maar de getijden
vervolgen elke dag hun koers. Storende elementen
luisteren in de vleugels, die scheuren op de naden.
Is het allemaal rijmelarij en nonsens? Lijpe kennis?
Apenjournalistiek?
Dit is beter dan dat andere vergeten goed
dat een tijd geleden opdroogde en fluistert.
Eventuele resultaten zullen niet al te lang meer meegaan
en ik ben intussen onderweg om je te corrigeren
met betrekking tot de kaartjes en hun beschikbaarheid.
We slingeren en verstijven, afgedankt door het verkeer
dat mysterieus de andere rijbaan van de laan afrijdt
terwijl de lampen veelbankig Central Park komen binnenvallen.
© Vertaling: 2013,
POSTLUDE AND PREQUEL
Would I lie to you? I don’t know what to say to you,and the season is coming into season just now
with long-awaited words from back when we were
friends and still are, of course, but the tides
pursue their course each day. Perturbing elements
listen in the wings, which are coming apart at the seams.
Is it all doggerel and folderol? A cracked knowledge?
Monkey journalism?
This is better than the other overlooked good
that dried up a while back and whispers.
The results, if any, won’t last too much longer
and I meanwhile am on my way to correct you
about the tickets and their availability.
We pitch and stiffen, elbowed by traffic mysteriously
descending the other lane of the avenue
as lamps burst in many-benched Central Park.
© 2012, John Ashbery
From: Quick Question
Publisher: Ecco / Harper Collins, New York
From: Quick Question
Publisher: Ecco / Harper Collins, New York
Poems
Poems of John Ashbery
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POSTLUDE AND PREQUEL
Would I lie to you? I don’t know what to say to you,and the season is coming into season just now
with long-awaited words from back when we were
friends and still are, of course, but the tides
pursue their course each day. Perturbing elements
listen in the wings, which are coming apart at the seams.
Is it all doggerel and folderol? A cracked knowledge?
Monkey journalism?
This is better than the other overlooked good
that dried up a while back and whispers.
The results, if any, won’t last too much longer
and I meanwhile am on my way to correct you
about the tickets and their availability.
We pitch and stiffen, elbowed by traffic mysteriously
descending the other lane of the avenue
as lamps burst in many-benched Central Park.
From: Quick Question
POSTLUDE AND PREQUEL
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