{"id":300041,"date":"1968-01-01T00:01:40","date_gmt":"1967-12-31T23:01:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/gedichten-van-rutger-kopland-4\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T12:38:24","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T11:38:24","slug":"gedichten-van-rutger-kopland-4","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/gedichten-van-rutger-kopland-4\/","title":{"rendered":"[Gedichten van Rutger Kopland]"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 49]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

[Gedichten van Rutger Kopland]<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Terug naar de natuur<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Er was een man, ik zeg niet wie<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hij was, die hield van de natuur,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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althans dat dacht hij, want hij had<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gehoord dat daar zoveel te vinden was,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de stilte, vrijheid, blijheid en jezelf<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en zo. Genoeg in elk geval om daar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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eens heen te gaan. Hij ging en kwam<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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behouden aan.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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En toen hij zijn boterhammen op had?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Stilte. Wie stilte wil beschrijven moet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn mond maar houden. Wie niets hoort<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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luistert niet en heeft niets te vertellen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Vrijheid. Het zou een zeer leuke boel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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worden als de vrijheid eens een beetje<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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doorzette, h\u00e8 ja jezelf zijn, eindelijk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zou niemand ons begrijpen. Maar wij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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begrijpen elkaar helaas uitstekend.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook in de meest luxueuze bittertaal<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van dichters spreekt alles vanzelf.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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De waarheid is nooit groter dan een koe.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Blijheid. De blijheid waar wij naar verlangen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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is er gelukkig niet. We zouden dodelijk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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getroffen worden door een herfstblad,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tegen de aarde gesmakt door de wiekslag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van een duif, verbrand door de zon.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wie niet sterk is moet bedroefd zijn.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 50]<\/div>
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Nee, toen hij zijn boterhammen op had<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hoorde hij de regen die zijn hele leven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door gevallen was, rook hij het gras<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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waar hij zijn hele leven koekhappend<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en zaklopend door heen gestrompeld was<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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onder het gelach van grote mensen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hoorde de regen en de stem van moeder<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uil die in de olmen huilde en riep<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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om hem.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nRutger Kopland<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n

[p. 51]<\/div>\r\n

Tienduizend gedichten<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Ze zijn er weer een beetje bij blijven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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liggen die tienduizend gedichten over<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de oude en al bijna beschimmelde weemoed.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ach ach wat ben ik gelukkig denk je<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zo vaak per ongeluk en dan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hoeft het ook niet meer.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Vanuit de trein weer zulke ontroerende<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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moestuinen gezien, peulen, bietjes,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de piepers voor de winterdag, alles<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in een groeizaam regentje, het fietsen-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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schuurtje waar vader achter tegen plast.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Het mooiste in dit leven is het slapste.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Grootmoeder weer begraven. Het mistte<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vaag en de zon scheen vaag en er was<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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niets meer aan te doen, alles was<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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betaald. Eenmaal gaan we allemaal,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zei iemand tevreden. Zo’n troost<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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valt bij mij altijd wel lekker.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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In een rivier deze zomer hele grote<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gladde rotsblokken gezien met net<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zulke prachtige details als van moeder<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de vrouw, maar ja, wel van steen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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natuurlijk.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Om kort te gaan, tienduizend dode<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vlinders gevangen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nRutger Kopland<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n

[p. 52]<\/div>\r\n

Pilsje in de Kempen<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Allemaal kerstbomen zeg maar dan heb je<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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het wel gehad en verdomd weinig te lachen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar in de ruisende zomernacht staat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de rozenrode tent van van der Belgen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de Parel der Kempen, maantje er boven,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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beetje glim glim op het grint, geweldig.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Pilsje, praatje, van het een komt het<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ander, ga er maar weer eens aan staan,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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leven en dood, tijd en eeuwigheid, de<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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liefde, de definitie van kunst, van jij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ziet het zus en een ander ziet het anders,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dus. Maar je kunt niet altijd alles<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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relatief zien, er zijn ook de grote, regel-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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rechte gevoelens waar het om gaat. Dan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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valt er weinig te lachen als uit de tot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kerkorgel verbouwde jukebox het lied<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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klinkt van de blinde soldaat. Ik zie<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hem voor me, de arme kerel, in ieder<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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blind oog blinkt een traan als hij eindelijk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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terugkeert in zijn geliefde Kempen en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tast naar zijn pilsje.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

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[p. 53]<\/div>\r\n

Kinderen, arme stakkers<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Na een jaar lang worstelen om<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de waarheid geeft Sint Nicolaas<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn eerste communiqu\u00e9: zie,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de maan schijnt door de bomen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wij kijken en zien de maan en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de waarheid door zware bewolking<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en bij gebrek aan bomen door<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de vingers. Hij kan niet alles<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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weten en weten is niet alles.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Alles kan worden geruild maar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hij neemt nooit terug wat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hij zegt en geeft. Rustig terug<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van weggeweest staat hij op<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de Grote Markt van Groningen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nRutger Kopland<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>

\n

Over dit hoofdstuk\/artikel<\/h3>\n

Rutger Kopland<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 49] [Gedichten van Rutger Kopland] Terug naar de natuur \u00a0 Er was een man, ik zeg niet wie \u00a0 hij was, die hield van de natuur, \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 althans dat dacht hij, want hij had \u00a0 gehoord dat daar zoveel te vinden was, \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 de stilte, vrijheid, blijheid en jezelf \u00a0… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-300041","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n[Gedichten van Rutger Kopland] · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/gedichten-van-rutger-kopland-4\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"[Gedichten van Rutger Kopland] · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 49] [Gedichten van Rutger Kopland] Terug naar de natuur \u00a0 Er was een man, ik zeg niet wie \u00a0 hij was, die hield van de natuur, \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 althans dat dacht hij, want hij had \u00a0 gehoord dat daar zoveel te vinden was, \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 de stilte, vrijheid, blijheid en jezelf \u00a0... 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