Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Remco Campert

JEALOUSY

Jealousy
I realize
you can’t get round it.
now I’ve been doing without again.

Jealousy
the machine of love has gone off the rails
is grinding and juddering on its foundations
self-destructing
a Tinguely.

How well I remember those days
and nights I spent
in the doorway opposite
not giving up till I got what I wanted
my fellow lover arrived and rang
and her window slid open.

I saw the hand I knew so well
the arm I’d bitten into so often
her key sailed down
and he my brother and murderer
fielded it with ease.

What happened inside
I could see it before me
how she her lips
how she her body
how she the same cries
oh! bitter triumph of the imagination.

Later
I’m love’s cold inspector
the searching interrogation
till finally the sobbing confession
is elicited and peace restored.

Like the furious felling of a tree
like the monomaniac heaving furniture around that’s too heavy
and will never again find its proper place
and the body under me
keeping still and waiting
till it was all over.

And now without jealousy
everything’s neutral a nothing smile
a cup of afternoon tea
with a biscuit and a friendly chat.

Night without moon
Berlin without wall
Java without volcano
time without hours.

JALOEZIE

JALOEZIE

Jaloezie
je kunt er eigenlijk niet buiten
merk ik
nu ik het alweer een poosje zonder stel.

Jaloezie
de machinerie van de liefde is dolgedraaid
staat knarsend en bevend op haar werkvloer
op het punt zichzelf te verbrijzelen
een Tinguely.

Hoe goed weet ik nog de dagen
en nachten die ik doorbracht
in het portiek aan haar overkant
en niet rustte tot ik mijn zin kreeg
de medeminnaar doemde op belde aan
en haar raam schoof open.

Ik zag de hand die ik zo goed kende
de arm waarin ik vaak gebeten had
de sleutel zeilde naar beneden
en hij broeder moordenaar
ving hem klemvast op.

Wat zich binnen af ging spelen
stond me helder voor ogen
hoe ze haar lippen
hoe ze haar lichaam
hoe ze dezelfde kreten
o bittere triomf van het voorstellingsvermogen.

Later
ik de kille inspecteur van de liefde
de taaie ondervraging
tot eindelijk de snikkende bekentenis
en de verzoening.

Als het woedende omhakken van een boom
als het monomane versjouwen van een te zwaar meubel
dat nooit zijn echte plek meer vinden zou
en onder me het lichaam
dat zich stil hield
en wachtte tot het afgelopen was.

Nu zo zonder jaloezie
is alles egaal een glimlach van niets
een kop thee in de middag
met een koekje en een net gesprek.

Lucht zonder maan
Berlijn zonder muur
Java zonder vulkaan
tijd zonder uur.
Close

JEALOUSY

Jealousy
I realize
you can’t get round it.
now I’ve been doing without again.

Jealousy
the machine of love has gone off the rails
is grinding and juddering on its foundations
self-destructing
a Tinguely.

How well I remember those days
and nights I spent
in the doorway opposite
not giving up till I got what I wanted
my fellow lover arrived and rang
and her window slid open.

I saw the hand I knew so well
the arm I’d bitten into so often
her key sailed down
and he my brother and murderer
fielded it with ease.

What happened inside
I could see it before me
how she her lips
how she her body
how she the same cries
oh! bitter triumph of the imagination.

Later
I’m love’s cold inspector
the searching interrogation
till finally the sobbing confession
is elicited and peace restored.

Like the furious felling of a tree
like the monomaniac heaving furniture around that’s too heavy
and will never again find its proper place
and the body under me
keeping still and waiting
till it was all over.

And now without jealousy
everything’s neutral a nothing smile
a cup of afternoon tea
with a biscuit and a friendly chat.

Night without moon
Berlin without wall
Java without volcano
time without hours.

JEALOUSY

Jealousy
I realize
you can’t get round it.
now I’ve been doing without again.

Jealousy
the machine of love has gone off the rails
is grinding and juddering on its foundations
self-destructing
a Tinguely.

How well I remember those days
and nights I spent
in the doorway opposite
not giving up till I got what I wanted
my fellow lover arrived and rang
and her window slid open.

I saw the hand I knew so well
the arm I’d bitten into so often
her key sailed down
and he my brother and murderer
fielded it with ease.

What happened inside
I could see it before me
how she her lips
how she her body
how she the same cries
oh! bitter triumph of the imagination.

Later
I’m love’s cold inspector
the searching interrogation
till finally the sobbing confession
is elicited and peace restored.

Like the furious felling of a tree
like the monomaniac heaving furniture around that’s too heavy
and will never again find its proper place
and the body under me
keeping still and waiting
till it was all over.

And now without jealousy
everything’s neutral a nothing smile
a cup of afternoon tea
with a biscuit and a friendly chat.

Night without moon
Berlin without wall
Java without volcano
time without hours.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère