Poem
Arjen Duinker
Fairy tale
There once was a bankerWho for all the wrong reasons
Had become a banker.
He consulted, in his hunger
For melancholy vindication,
An apple tree, a vascular surgeon and a box.
All three equally melancholy,
Yet so satisfied inside
That the banker felt wronged.
Thirty-seven butterflies
And thirty-seven bottles of wine
And thirty-seven folded blankets
And thirty-seven bus tickets
And thirty-seven bars of gold
And thirty-seven fires
And thirty-seven belches later
He lay down in his hammock
For thirty-seven reasons.
© Translation: 2002, Willem Groenewegen
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, 2002
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: Arc Publications, Todmorden, 2002
Sprookje
Sprookje
Er was eens een bankierDie om verkeerde redenen
Bankier was geworden.
Hij raadpleegde, in zijn honger
Naar melancholieke rechtvaardiging,
Een appelboom en een vaatchirurg en een doosje.
Alledrie even melancholiek,
Maar vanbinnen zo voldaan
Dat de bankier het onrechtvaardig vond.
Zevenendertig vlinders
En zevenendertig flessen wijn
En zevenendertig gevouwen lakens
En zevenendertig buskaartjes
En zevenendertig goudstaven
En zevenendertig vuren
En zevenendertig oprispingen later
Ging hij in zijn hangmat liggen
Om zevenendertig redenen.
© 1998, Arjen Duinker
From: Ook al is het niet zo. Gedichten
Publisher: J.M. Meulenhoff bv, Amsterdam
From: Ook al is het niet zo. Gedichten
Publisher: J.M. Meulenhoff bv, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Arjen Duinker
Close
Fairy tale
There once was a bankerWho for all the wrong reasons
Had become a banker.
He consulted, in his hunger
For melancholy vindication,
An apple tree, a vascular surgeon and a box.
All three equally melancholy,
Yet so satisfied inside
That the banker felt wronged.
Thirty-seven butterflies
And thirty-seven bottles of wine
And thirty-seven folded blankets
And thirty-seven bus tickets
And thirty-seven bars of gold
And thirty-seven fires
And thirty-seven belches later
He lay down in his hammock
For thirty-seven reasons.
© 2002, Willem Groenewegen
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: 2002, Arc Publications, Todmorden
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: 2002, Arc Publications, Todmorden
Fairy tale
There once was a bankerWho for all the wrong reasons
Had become a banker.
He consulted, in his hunger
For melancholy vindication,
An apple tree, a vascular surgeon and a box.
All three equally melancholy,
Yet so satisfied inside
That the banker felt wronged.
Thirty-seven butterflies
And thirty-seven bottles of wine
And thirty-seven folded blankets
And thirty-seven bus tickets
And thirty-seven bars of gold
And thirty-seven fires
And thirty-seven belches later
He lay down in his hammock
For thirty-seven reasons.
© 2002, Willem Groenewegen
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: 2002, Arc Publications, Todmorden
From: The Sublime Song of a Maybe
Publisher: 2002, Arc Publications, Todmorden
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