Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Karel van de Woestijne

Like the throbbing lightning-dash ...

Like the throbbing lightning-dash of engines 
to which a human will has strapped itself,
seeking to penetrate the unfathomable void
to where it pierces the gaze of God’s eye;

no, but like light in light: like to a candle
so meagre that the sun swallows it quite
from early green to final purple glow,
but which knows that its smallness cannot be snuffed out;

no, but like carp which in the densest ooze
gulp in some life, until Death finds them out
who only then through rags of mother-of-pearl
lifts their blond bellies to the blowing light;

but no, oh no: like earth and like metal,
condensed by pressure and suction of the universe,
are inaccessible and secret rays
gathered together in one crystal tear;

no, but dead flesh, dissolved in sluggish streams
or richly blooming in a feast for worms;
no, just that flesh, that flesh and wretched oozing,
and the lowly beast that on the great beast dances;

no, no, oh God (I know not how to say;
I know not, God, I know not, but I say:
God);

like the . . .

like . . .

Gelijk het gonzend bliksmen van motoren,

Gelijk het gonzend bliksmen van motoren, 
waaraan een menschen-wil zich-zelven riemt,
het ondoorgrondlijk-ijle wil doorboren
tot waar \'t den blik van Godes oog doorpriemt;

neen, gelijk licht in licht: gelijk een kaarse
zóo karig, dat de zonne haar doorvreet
van \'t vroege groenen tot het late paarsen,
maar die haar kleinheid onverdoofbaar weet;

neen, gelijk karpers die ter dikste drabben
wat leven gapen, tot de Dood ze treft
die dán eerst, door de peerlemoeren schabben
hun blonden buik naar \'t waaiend lichten heft;

maar neen, maar neen: \'lijk aarde en \'lijk metalen,
verdicht bij dringe\' en zuigen van \'t heelal,
worden verhole\' en ongenaakb\'re stralen
vergaderd in èen trane van krystal;

neen, dood stuk vleesch, vervloeid in logge beken
of weeldrig bloeiend in een wormen-feest;
neen, slechts dat vleesch, dat vleesch en arrem leken,
en \'t lage beest dat danst op \'t hooge beest;

neen, neen, o God (ik weet niet hoe te zeggen;
ik weet niet, God, ik weet niet, maar ik zeg:
God);

gelijk de . . .

gelijk . . .
Close

Like the throbbing lightning-dash ...

Like the throbbing lightning-dash of engines 
to which a human will has strapped itself,
seeking to penetrate the unfathomable void
to where it pierces the gaze of God’s eye;

no, but like light in light: like to a candle
so meagre that the sun swallows it quite
from early green to final purple glow,
but which knows that its smallness cannot be snuffed out;

no, but like carp which in the densest ooze
gulp in some life, until Death finds them out
who only then through rags of mother-of-pearl
lifts their blond bellies to the blowing light;

but no, oh no: like earth and like metal,
condensed by pressure and suction of the universe,
are inaccessible and secret rays
gathered together in one crystal tear;

no, but dead flesh, dissolved in sluggish streams
or richly blooming in a feast for worms;
no, just that flesh, that flesh and wretched oozing,
and the lowly beast that on the great beast dances;

no, no, oh God (I know not how to say;
I know not, God, I know not, but I say:
God);

like the . . .

like . . .

Like the throbbing lightning-dash ...

Like the throbbing lightning-dash of engines 
to which a human will has strapped itself,
seeking to penetrate the unfathomable void
to where it pierces the gaze of God’s eye;

no, but like light in light: like to a candle
so meagre that the sun swallows it quite
from early green to final purple glow,
but which knows that its smallness cannot be snuffed out;

no, but like carp which in the densest ooze
gulp in some life, until Death finds them out
who only then through rags of mother-of-pearl
lifts their blond bellies to the blowing light;

but no, oh no: like earth and like metal,
condensed by pressure and suction of the universe,
are inaccessible and secret rays
gathered together in one crystal tear;

no, but dead flesh, dissolved in sluggish streams
or richly blooming in a feast for worms;
no, just that flesh, that flesh and wretched oozing,
and the lowly beast that on the great beast dances;

no, no, oh God (I know not how to say;
I know not, God, I know not, but I say:
God);

like the . . .

like . . .
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère