Poem
J. Bernlef
This is the world
Thrown on the paperin a relentless stream:
The grasshopper with vertigo
the butterfly with pupa eyes
the spider tangled in its web
the house with its smoking chimney
the father, the mother, the cat, the child
This is the world their hands roar
coloring, cutting and pasting it in.
The underpainting nowhere to be seen
the dark tones from the swamp
where gas bubbles burst open
flowers of rotting decay.
No, this is the world, like lightning
shooting past as you sketch it
Hurray! Hurray!
Cymbal - Boom of gloom.
Dit is de wereld
Dit is de wereld
In een onafgebroken stroomop het papier gegooid:
De sprinkhaan met hoogtevrees
de vlinder met poppenogen
de spin verward in zijn web
het huis met zijn rokende schoorsteen
de vader, de moeder, de kat, het kind
Dit is de wereld schateren hun handen
kleuren haar in, knippen en plakken haar vast.
Nergens te bekennen de onderschildering
de donkere tonen uit het moeras
waar gasbellen openknappen
bloemen van het bederf.
Nee, dit is de wereld, de bliksemsnelle
die voorbijschiet terwijl je hem schetst
Hoera! Hoera!
Cymbaal -Donkerslag.
Poems
Poems of J. Bernlef
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This is the world
Thrown on the paperin a relentless stream:
The grasshopper with vertigo
the butterfly with pupa eyes
the spider tangled in its web
the house with its smoking chimney
the father, the mother, the cat, the child
This is the world their hands roar
coloring, cutting and pasting it in.
The underpainting nowhere to be seen
the dark tones from the swamp
where gas bubbles burst open
flowers of rotting decay.
No, this is the world, like lightning
shooting past as you sketch it
Hurray! Hurray!
Cymbal - Boom of gloom.
This is the world
Thrown on the paperin a relentless stream:
The grasshopper with vertigo
the butterfly with pupa eyes
the spider tangled in its web
the house with its smoking chimney
the father, the mother, the cat, the child
This is the world their hands roar
coloring, cutting and pasting it in.
The underpainting nowhere to be seen
the dark tones from the swamp
where gas bubbles burst open
flowers of rotting decay.
No, this is the world, like lightning
shooting past as you sketch it
Hurray! Hurray!
Cymbal - Boom of gloom.
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