Poem
Ed Leeflang
Cows
I had a bay all to myself, the low rockscrumbled more into the sea.
It turned white-hot. Herds of brown
cows came, stood up to their bellies
in the shining water.
It\'s not because it was idyllic,
the earth was old, though, and more chaste.
This I would never see again, but
who was it who saw this. And how
to write it down: Monday and Tuesday
are not deadly, the yearning for
that deep-enchanted I can be subdued.
As if I can be soothed.
Koeien
Koeien
Ik had een baai alleen, de lage rotsenbrokkelden verder in de oceaan.
Het werd witheet. Er kwamen kudden
bruine koeien tot hun buiken
in het spiegelende water staan.
Het gaat me niet om de idylle
maar oud en kuiser was de aarde.
Dit zou ik nooit meer zien, alleen
wie was het die dit zag. Hoe wil het
uit zijn pen: maandag, dinsdag
zijn niet dodelijk, het heimwee naar
het diep verrukte ik is overkomelijk.
Of ik om te kalmeren ben.
© 1999, Ed Leeflang
From: Eenden op één nacht ijs
Publisher: PS Poëzie, Schoonhoven
From: Eenden op één nacht ijs
Publisher: PS Poëzie, Schoonhoven
Poems
Poems of Ed Leeflang
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Cows
I had a bay all to myself, the low rockscrumbled more into the sea.
It turned white-hot. Herds of brown
cows came, stood up to their bellies
in the shining water.
It\'s not because it was idyllic,
the earth was old, though, and more chaste.
This I would never see again, but
who was it who saw this. And how
to write it down: Monday and Tuesday
are not deadly, the yearning for
that deep-enchanted I can be subdued.
As if I can be soothed.
From: Eenden op één nacht ijs
Cows
I had a bay all to myself, the low rockscrumbled more into the sea.
It turned white-hot. Herds of brown
cows came, stood up to their bellies
in the shining water.
It\'s not because it was idyllic,
the earth was old, though, and more chaste.
This I would never see again, but
who was it who saw this. And how
to write it down: Monday and Tuesday
are not deadly, the yearning for
that deep-enchanted I can be subdued.
As if I can be soothed.
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