Poem
Rutger Kopland
TIME
Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful toonever to know what it is
and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us
as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it
as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes
it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived
to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads
it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time
this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.
© Translation: 2001, James Brockway
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: The Harvill Press, London, 2001
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: The Harvill Press, London, 2001
TIJD
TIJD
Tijd – het is vreemd, het is vreemd mooi ooknooit te zullen weten wat het is
en toch, hoeveel van wat er in ons leeft is ouder
dan wij, hoeveel daarvan zal ons overleven
zoals een pasgeboren kind kijkt alsof het kijkt
naar iets in zichzelf, iets ziet daar
wat het meekreeg
zoals Rembrandt kijkt op de laatste portretten
van zichzelf alsof hij ziet waar hij heengaat
een verte voorbij onze ogen
het is vreemd maar ook vreemd mooi te bedenken
dat ooit niemand meer zal weten
dat we hebben geleefd
te bedenken hoe nu we leven, hoe hier
maar ook hoe niets ons leven zou zijn zonder
de echo’s van de onbekende diepten in ons hoofd
niet de tijd gaat voorbij, maar jij, en ik
buiten onze gedachten is geen tijd
we stonden deze zomer op de rand van een dal
om ons heen alleen wind
© 2001, Rutger Kopland
From: Over het verlangen naar een sigaret
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot, Amsterdam
From: Over het verlangen naar een sigaret
Publisher: G.A. van Oorschot, Amsterdam
Poems
Poems of Rutger Kopland
Close
TIME
Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful toonever to know what it is
and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us
as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it
as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes
it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived
to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads
it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time
this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.
© 2001, James Brockway
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: 2001, The Harvill Press, London
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: 2001, The Harvill Press, London
TIME
Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful toonever to know what it is
and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us
as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it
as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes
it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived
to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads
it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time
this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.
© 2001, James Brockway
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: 2001, The Harvill Press, London
From: Memories of the Unknown
Publisher: 2001, The Harvill Press, London
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