Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Cees Nooteboom

This way

It could have been this way:
something filthy longs for something dirty for the morning,


the painted rose
wants to be in the masterpiece.


The small begs for something smaller yet
for the road,


the big goes shopping
at giant shops.


It is so hard to defend yourself.
You see the butterfly, already bigger by a hand,


you see the flowers plowing soil,
the worm as snake.


This is the weight
that bursts the scales.


To have shared all that
With time as a hairdo,
As a god of a short-lived universe.


That, dear friend, was life
And it is what it was.

Zo kon het zijn:

Zo kon het zijn:
iets smerigs verlangt iets vuils voor de ochtend,


de geschilderde roos
wil in het meesterwerk.


Het kleine wil nog
iets kleiners voor onderweg,


het grote koopt in
bij reusachtige dingen.


Je kunt je moeilijk verweren.
Je ziet de vlinder, alweer een hand groter,


je ziet hoe de bloemen de grond omwoelen,
de worm als een slang.


Dit is het gewicht
dat barst uit de schaal


Daarin bestaan te hebben
met de tijd als haardos,
als een god van kortstondig heelal,


dat, lieve vriend, is het leven.
En het was wat het is.
Close

This way

It could have been this way:
something filthy longs for something dirty for the morning,


the painted rose
wants to be in the masterpiece.


The small begs for something smaller yet
for the road,


the big goes shopping
at giant shops.


It is so hard to defend yourself.
You see the butterfly, already bigger by a hand,


you see the flowers plowing soil,
the worm as snake.


This is the weight
that bursts the scales.


To have shared all that
With time as a hairdo,
As a god of a short-lived universe.


That, dear friend, was life
And it is what it was.

This way

It could have been this way:
something filthy longs for something dirty for the morning,


the painted rose
wants to be in the masterpiece.


The small begs for something smaller yet
for the road,


the big goes shopping
at giant shops.


It is so hard to defend yourself.
You see the butterfly, already bigger by a hand,


you see the flowers plowing soil,
the worm as snake.


This is the weight
that bursts the scales.


To have shared all that
With time as a hairdo,
As a god of a short-lived universe.


That, dear friend, was life
And it is what it was.
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
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