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Poem

Nathan Alterman

On the Highroad

There\'s a tinkling in the pasture and a whistling
And the field lies in gold till evening.
A hush of green wells,
My wide open spaces and a road.


The trees risen from the dew
Gleam like glass and metal.
I shall never stop looking, I shall never stop breathing
And I shall die and will keep going.

On the Highroad

Close

On the Highroad

There\'s a tinkling in the pasture and a whistling
And the field lies in gold till evening.
A hush of green wells,
My wide open spaces and a road.


The trees risen from the dew
Gleam like glass and metal.
I shall never stop looking, I shall never stop breathing
And I shall die and will keep going.

On the Highroad

There\'s a tinkling in the pasture and a whistling
And the field lies in gold till evening.
A hush of green wells,
My wide open spaces and a road.


The trees risen from the dew
Gleam like glass and metal.
I shall never stop looking, I shall never stop breathing
And I shall die and will keep going.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
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