Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Rutger Kopland

TIME

Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful too
never to know what it is

and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us

as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it

as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes

it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived

to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads

it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time

this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.

TIJD

TIJD

Tijd – het is vreemd, het is vreemd mooi ook
nooit te zullen weten wat het is

en toch, hoeveel van wat er in ons leeft is ouder
dan wij, hoeveel daarvan zal ons overleven

zoals een pasgeboren kind kijkt alsof het kijkt
naar iets in zichzelf, iets ziet daar
wat het meekreeg

zoals Rembrandt kijkt op de laatste portretten
van zichzelf alsof hij ziet waar hij heengaat
een verte voorbij onze ogen

het is vreemd maar ook vreemd mooi te bedenken
dat ooit niemand meer zal weten
dat we hebben geleefd

te bedenken hoe nu we leven, hoe hier
maar ook hoe niets ons leven zou zijn zonder
de echo’s van de onbekende diepten in ons hoofd

niet de tijd gaat voorbij, maar jij, en ik
buiten onze gedachten is geen tijd

we stonden deze zomer op de rand van een dal
om ons heen alleen wind
Close

TIME

Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful too
never to know what it is

and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us

as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it

as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes

it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived

to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads

it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time

this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.

TIME

Time – it is strange – it is strangely beautiful too
never to know what it is

and yet how much that lives in us is older
than we are, how much of it will outlive us

as a new-born child can look as though it is looking
at something inside itself, something it was given
to bring along with it

as Rembrandt looks in the last self-portraits
as though he can see where he is going
into a distance beyond our eyes

it is strange but strangely beautiful to reflect
that one day no one any more will know
we ever lived

to reflect on how now we live, how here
but also on how our life would be nothing without
the echoes from the unknown depths in our heads

it’s not time that passes, it’s you, it’s I
outside our thinking there is no time

this summer we stood on the edge of a valley
around us only wind.
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