{"id":301162,"date":"1981-01-01T00:00:13","date_gmt":"1980-12-31T23:00:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/anton-kortewegvier-gedichten-4\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T14:22:55","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T13:22:55","slug":"anton-kortewegvier-gedichten-4","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/anton-kortewegvier-gedichten-4\/","title":{"rendered":"Anton Korteweg\r\n\r\nVier gedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 83]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nAnton Korteweg<\/i>\r\n\r\n
\r\nVier gedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Angst<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Geen duizend angsten, maar \u00e9en vrees:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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er is alleen jezelf als straks het leven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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boven je hoofd zich gesloten heeft.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Geen andere handen als de eigen twee.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Geen ander haar om zich aan op te trekken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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als eigen haar – dat plotseling ontbreekt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 84]<\/div>\r\n

Beetje later<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Als poedel, in een geur<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van fresia’s en moeders,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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houdt ze me er op na.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wedgwood en suikertang,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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leikleurige spataar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en bloemetjesbehang.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Nog steeds, na zoveel jaar,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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het beste met me voor.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Me nog wel lief. Ik ook.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Vandaar.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 85]<\/div>\r\n

De grijsaard en de jongeling, vijftig jaar later<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Knaap, een gevoelige ziel be-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zitten wij allen. Roerselen, knaap, en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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diep diep diep!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook ons innerlijk heerlijk complex:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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met al te omklemmende armen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gekoesterd door talloze moeders;<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door vaders niet gewenst.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook wij, knaap, nooit, door niemand!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Daarom op te ondermaatse<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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volksmeisjes zijn wij dol.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een knaap met lok en oortjes<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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brengt ons nachten lang van streek.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wij verlangen te baden in<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de weelde van menopauseuses.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook wij, knaap, altijd, op alle!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook ons jaagt de avonddauw,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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‘n dode vlieg in de vensterbank,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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‘n suffe wesp van de late zomer,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de angst in het hart; vallend blad<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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treft ons jaarlijks dodelijk.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 86]<\/div>
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Ook wij, knaap, duizend doden!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Daarom bespaar het ons, knaap,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die blik in de akelige afgrond<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van je exquise ziel,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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het piepen van je diepte.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ook wij, knaap, hart en nieren!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar werk twaalf uur per dag,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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werk ook ‘s avonds en ‘s nachts,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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voor geld, veel geld, ga<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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er flink tegenaan, ga<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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er flink overheen, als je denkt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dat d\u00e0t helpt. En spit, met geweld,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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je ziel onder, niet om.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Want je zinkt echt niet echt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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als je klacht niet weerklinkt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Je zinkt als je je heil afhankelijk stelt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van weerklank op je al te schrille kreet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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diep uit je al te delicate ziel – geluid<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tot niets in staat dan dat het oren kwelt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 87]<\/div>\r\n

Sorry<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Dat het voor alles te laat is, niets<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ooit over gaat, niets meer gaat, en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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daarvan de pijn, die<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wil je ervaren, opdat het lied,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ooit, eens toch dat lied dat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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troost als een moeder,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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daaruit ontstaat.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Maar tot nu toe bleef je verstoken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van dat verlossend wanhopen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Vandaar met meer moeite dan pijn<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uit kleine stukjes onvrede<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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eindeloos versjes smeden.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
\n

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

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

[p. 83] Anton Korteweg Vier gedichten Angst \u00a0 Geen duizend angsten, maar \u00e9en vrees: \u00a0 er is alleen jezelf als straks het leven \u00a0 boven je hoofd zich gesloten heeft. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Geen andere handen als de eigen twee. \u00a0 Geen ander haar om zich aan op te trekken \u00a0 als eigen haar –… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-301162","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nAnton Korteweg Vier gedichten · 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\/anton-kortewegvier-gedichten-4\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Anton Korteweg Vier gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 83] Anton Korteweg Vier gedichten Angst \u00a0 Geen duizend angsten, maar \u00e9en vrees: \u00a0 er is alleen jezelf als straks het leven \u00a0 boven je hoofd zich gesloten heeft. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Geen andere handen als de eigen twee. \u00a0 Geen ander haar om zich aan op te trekken \u00a0 als eigen haar –... 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