Poem
Rutger Kopland
in the morning
There must be something as we go to sleepwe lay down and went to sleep
what was it then – as the final words
for the world grew fainter and fainter:
moonlight: far-off a dog, quiet breathing,
odour of a man, a woman,
night and once again night
that said, as even the last word night had been
put out: these are still our own arms
in which we fall apart into this black hole
this is still our own body
that said something, while there were no more words left
there must be something now the word morning
slowly lights up and it becomes morning
that held us together and lets us go
as we lie here like this
in de morgen
in de morgen
Er moet iets zijn als we inslapenwe gingen liggen en sliepen in
wat was het dan – terwijl de laatste woorden
voor de wereld ijler en ijler werden:
maanlicht, verre hond, zacht ademen,
geuren van een man, een vrouw,
nacht, nacht en nog eens – wat was het
dat zei, terwijl ook het laatste woord nacht
was gedoofd: dit zijn onze eigen armen nog
waarin we uiteenvallen in dit zwarte gat
dit is nog ons eigen lichaam
dat iets zei, terwijl er geen woorden meer waren
er moet iets zijn nu het woord morgen
langzaam oplicht en het morgen is
dat ons bijeen hield en loslaat
zoals we hier liggen
© 1997, G.A. van Oorschot
From: Tot het ons loslaat
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot,
From: Tot het ons loslaat
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot,
Poems
Poems of Rutger Kopland
Close
in the morning
There must be something as we go to sleepwe lay down and went to sleep
what was it then – as the final words
for the world grew fainter and fainter:
moonlight: far-off a dog, quiet breathing,
odour of a man, a woman,
night and once again night
that said, as even the last word night had been
put out: these are still our own arms
in which we fall apart into this black hole
this is still our own body
that said something, while there were no more words left
there must be something now the word morning
slowly lights up and it becomes morning
that held us together and lets us go
as we lie here like this
From: Tot het ons loslaat
in the morning
There must be something as we go to sleepwe lay down and went to sleep
what was it then – as the final words
for the world grew fainter and fainter:
moonlight: far-off a dog, quiet breathing,
odour of a man, a woman,
night and once again night
that said, as even the last word night had been
put out: these are still our own arms
in which we fall apart into this black hole
this is still our own body
that said something, while there were no more words left
there must be something now the word morning
slowly lights up and it becomes morning
that held us together and lets us go
as we lie here like this
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