Poem
Gerrit Komrij
CITY LIGHTS
An open space of square. Night’s fallen fast.The whole day long I’ve walked down narrow alleys
Where dazedly I’ve thought about my past:
Ash, dust and sawdust – such a woeful tally.
An open space, at last. A chiming bell.
Like some old etching lies the city square,
With scores of alleys drawn into its spell.
Arch, gateway, statue – everything is there.
The gleaming marble’s listlessly approached.
The moon is full – does her awaited stint.
An owl hoots. Distant barking’s faintly broached.
I see my mother standing on the plinth.
CITY LIGHTS
CITY LIGHTS
De ruimte van een plein. Het is al nacht.De hele dag liep ik door nauwe stegen
Waar ik verdwaasd mijn leven overdacht:
As, stof en zaagsel om bijeen te vegen.
De ruimte, eindelijk. Een klok die luidt.
Het is het stadsplein van een oude prent
Tientallen stegen komen er op uit.
Poort, boog en standbeeld, alles is present.
Traag loop ik op het stralend marmer af.
Het is, hoe kan het anders, volle maan.
Een uil roept. In de verte klinkt geblaf.
Ik zie mijn moeder op de sokkel staan.
© 1997, Gerrit Komrij
From: Faust, zoveelste deel
Publisher: Nysingh Advocaten, Zutphen
From: Faust, zoveelste deel
Publisher: Nysingh Advocaten, Zutphen
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Poems of Gerrit Komrij
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CITY LIGHTS
An open space of square. Night’s fallen fast.The whole day long I’ve walked down narrow alleys
Where dazedly I’ve thought about my past:
Ash, dust and sawdust – such a woeful tally.
An open space, at last. A chiming bell.
Like some old etching lies the city square,
With scores of alleys drawn into its spell.
Arch, gateway, statue – everything is there.
The gleaming marble’s listlessly approached.
The moon is full – does her awaited stint.
An owl hoots. Distant barking’s faintly broached.
I see my mother standing on the plinth.
From: Faust, zoveelste deel
CITY LIGHTS
An open space of square. Night’s fallen fast.The whole day long I’ve walked down narrow alleys
Where dazedly I’ve thought about my past:
Ash, dust and sawdust – such a woeful tally.
An open space, at last. A chiming bell.
Like some old etching lies the city square,
With scores of alleys drawn into its spell.
Arch, gateway, statue – everything is there.
The gleaming marble’s listlessly approached.
The moon is full – does her awaited stint.
An owl hoots. Distant barking’s faintly broached.
I see my mother standing on the plinth.
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