Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Herman Gorter

The sun. Yellow and gold is the world

*


The sun. Yellow and gold is the world
and all the sun’s rays are unfurled
through the silent sky, angel-sweet.
It dangles its little feet,
girls’ mouths blow golden flutes,
pursed lips let out golden hoots,
on this marble the clatter of laughter’s coins,
I sit and warm my loins.

Look at them walking turning around,
it’s like autumn on the white stone ground,
autumn with leaves dry, crackly and yellow,
angels with robes gold-woven and mellow,
on high gold fleeces extend,
while sun rushes bend,
sunny gold whistling sounds from their mouth,
they guide each other up from the south,
across my marble floor they go
in gold slippers on tiptoe.
They seem to have occupied every last space,
yellow gold wine fills this earthly place.

*

*


De zon. De wereld is goud en geel
en alle zonnestralen komen heel
de stille lucht door als engelen.
Haar voetjes hangen te bengelen,
meisjesmondjes blazen gouden fluitjes,
gelipte mondjes lachen goudgeluidjes,
lachmuntjes kletterend op dit marmer,
ik zit en warm m’ er.

Kijk ze nu loopen wendend om me heen,
’t lijkt wel een herfst op den witten steen,
een herfst van dorre en geele kraakbladen,
engelen in wevegoudwaden,
zwevende guldvliezen,
neigende zonbiezen,
fluitende gouden zonnegeluiden,
ze leiden elkaar van uit het zuiden,
ze loopen over mijn marmersteen
in goudmuiltjes heen.
En \'t lijkt of ze nu wel overal zijn,
de wereld is vol met een geelen goudwijn.
Close

The sun. Yellow and gold is the world

*


The sun. Yellow and gold is the world
and all the sun’s rays are unfurled
through the silent sky, angel-sweet.
It dangles its little feet,
girls’ mouths blow golden flutes,
pursed lips let out golden hoots,
on this marble the clatter of laughter’s coins,
I sit and warm my loins.

Look at them walking turning around,
it’s like autumn on the white stone ground,
autumn with leaves dry, crackly and yellow,
angels with robes gold-woven and mellow,
on high gold fleeces extend,
while sun rushes bend,
sunny gold whistling sounds from their mouth,
they guide each other up from the south,
across my marble floor they go
in gold slippers on tiptoe.
They seem to have occupied every last space,
yellow gold wine fills this earthly place.

The sun. Yellow and gold is the world

*


The sun. Yellow and gold is the world
and all the sun’s rays are unfurled
through the silent sky, angel-sweet.
It dangles its little feet,
girls’ mouths blow golden flutes,
pursed lips let out golden hoots,
on this marble the clatter of laughter’s coins,
I sit and warm my loins.

Look at them walking turning around,
it’s like autumn on the white stone ground,
autumn with leaves dry, crackly and yellow,
angels with robes gold-woven and mellow,
on high gold fleeces extend,
while sun rushes bend,
sunny gold whistling sounds from their mouth,
they guide each other up from the south,
across my marble floor they go
in gold slippers on tiptoe.
They seem to have occupied every last space,
yellow gold wine fills this earthly place.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère