Poem
Willem van Toorn
Two daughters
In the sleepy early morningI see them as they ride
down the tree-lined track, side by side:
off to the village, A and S, my daughters.
If I was able to draw
you’d see an imprint appear before
your eyes, a picture in
which they’d be frozen: their hair, ever so thin
(they’ve almost reached the end,
where the road to the village begins),
blowing in the wind
under a misty sun.
Now you’ll have to take
a few of my words for it. Look,
the glint of a bell or spoke.
In through the open window slides
a tight-stretched ribbon of light.
They’re behind the trees. But you’re seeing
their windblown hair still streaming
inside your head. And listen: the sound of their bikes
is whispering behind your eyes.
Of all that exists in this greenery
they’re easily the dearest to me:
A and S. Do you see them?
Then you can close this poem.
Set down inside your head
they won’t disappear just yet.
Twee dochters
Twee dochters
Slaperig vroeg in de ochtendzie ik ze de laan
uit fietsen samen, ze gaan
naar het dorp, A en S, mijn dochters.
Als ik tekenen kon
zou je hier nu een prent
zien ontstaan waar ze in
bevroren waren: heel dun
(ze zijn al haast aan het eind,
waar de weg naar het dorp begint)
waait hun haar in de wind
onder een mistige zon.
Nu moet je mij maar geloven
op wat woorden. Kijk, er blinkt
een spaak of een bel. Een lint
van langgerekt licht komt het open-
staande raam ingeschoven.
Ze zijn al achter de bomen.
Maar jij ziet hun haar nog stromen
in je hoofd. Hoor, hun fietsen
ruisen ook achter je ogen.
Ze zijn makkelijk het liefste
wat er in al dit groen
bestaat, A en S. Je ziet ze?
Dan mag je dit vers dichtdoen.
In jouw hoofd vastgelegd
raken ze even niet weg.
© 1981, Querido
From: Het landleven
Publisher: Querido,
From: Het landleven
Publisher: Querido,
Poems
Poems of Willem van Toorn
Close
Two daughters
In the sleepy early morningI see them as they ride
down the tree-lined track, side by side:
off to the village, A and S, my daughters.
If I was able to draw
you’d see an imprint appear before
your eyes, a picture in
which they’d be frozen: their hair, ever so thin
(they’ve almost reached the end,
where the road to the village begins),
blowing in the wind
under a misty sun.
Now you’ll have to take
a few of my words for it. Look,
the glint of a bell or spoke.
In through the open window slides
a tight-stretched ribbon of light.
They’re behind the trees. But you’re seeing
their windblown hair still streaming
inside your head. And listen: the sound of their bikes
is whispering behind your eyes.
Of all that exists in this greenery
they’re easily the dearest to me:
A and S. Do you see them?
Then you can close this poem.
Set down inside your head
they won’t disappear just yet.
From: Het landleven
Two daughters
In the sleepy early morningI see them as they ride
down the tree-lined track, side by side:
off to the village, A and S, my daughters.
If I was able to draw
you’d see an imprint appear before
your eyes, a picture in
which they’d be frozen: their hair, ever so thin
(they’ve almost reached the end,
where the road to the village begins),
blowing in the wind
under a misty sun.
Now you’ll have to take
a few of my words for it. Look,
the glint of a bell or spoke.
In through the open window slides
a tight-stretched ribbon of light.
They’re behind the trees. But you’re seeing
their windblown hair still streaming
inside your head. And listen: the sound of their bikes
is whispering behind your eyes.
Of all that exists in this greenery
they’re easily the dearest to me:
A and S. Do you see them?
Then you can close this poem.
Set down inside your head
they won’t disappear just yet.
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère