Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Hans Tentije

FROM OVERSEA

A low-lying light whose shadows stretch
to places out of reach, by now overgrown
around what had once transpired
and might not yet be erased –

cloud-chased, capricious, refound
random moments, but there’s so much
vista beyond which they’ll surely
vanish, though even as remote
a landscape as this
should remember them

when looking at last lets you forget
all images are reduced
to their essence, to the hidden place that is the source
of every word, every song

in a light from oversea, from over dune hollows
and sand drifts, that illuminates all
but clarifies naught

VAN OVER ZEE

VAN OVER ZEE

Een strijklicht dat zijn schaduwen uitstrekt
naar onbereikbaar geworden, al verwilderde plekken
om wat zich er ooit voltrokken heeft
en misschien nog steeds niet is gewist –

met de wolken wegdrijvende, weer te binnen
geschoten, willekeurige, grillige momenten, maar er is zoveel
horizon waarachter ze vervolgens
moeten verdwijnen, terwijl een afgelegen 
landschap als dit ze zich zelfs
zou horen te herinneren

als het kijken eindelijk het vergeten inwilligt
zijn alle beelden teruggebracht
tot hun essentie, het onderhuidse waar elk woord, elk lied
immer uit voortgekomen is

in een van over zee, van over duinvalleien
en verstuivingen komend licht, dat alles verheldert
maar niets verklaart
Close

FROM OVERSEA

A low-lying light whose shadows stretch
to places out of reach, by now overgrown
around what had once transpired
and might not yet be erased –

cloud-chased, capricious, refound
random moments, but there’s so much
vista beyond which they’ll surely
vanish, though even as remote
a landscape as this
should remember them

when looking at last lets you forget
all images are reduced
to their essence, to the hidden place that is the source
of every word, every song

in a light from oversea, from over dune hollows
and sand drifts, that illuminates all
but clarifies naught

FROM OVERSEA

A low-lying light whose shadows stretch
to places out of reach, by now overgrown
around what had once transpired
and might not yet be erased –

cloud-chased, capricious, refound
random moments, but there’s so much
vista beyond which they’ll surely
vanish, though even as remote
a landscape as this
should remember them

when looking at last lets you forget
all images are reduced
to their essence, to the hidden place that is the source
of every word, every song

in a light from oversea, from over dune hollows
and sand drifts, that illuminates all
but clarifies naught
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère