{"id":301405,"date":"1983-01-01T00:00:55","date_gmt":"1982-12-31T23:00:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/paul-meeuwsgedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:05:41","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:05:41","slug":"paul-meeuwsgedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/paul-meeuwsgedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Paul Meeuws\r\n\r\nGedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 565]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nPaul Meeuws<\/i>\r\n\r\n
\r\nGedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Wals<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Zonnige zaterdag, twaalf uur.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Het wiel draait aan de orgelman,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de zon draait om de straat.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een houten herderin leert mij een wals,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de pirouette van een boor.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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De klank vliedt van het middelpunt,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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flegmatisch mechaniek,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dat over ziel en zaligheid<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de wildste geruchten uitbraakt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door zijn pijpen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 566]<\/div>\r\n

Mars<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Er slaat een stilte uit duizend hakken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Het plein verstijft.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Alleen de boomtoppen buigen en het gras.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wolken nemen de tijd mee.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een spoorloos verdriet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Dan schalt uit het enige<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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geopende paar kaken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een mars (uit de tijd<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dat men zijn koper nog poetste)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ontroerende krassen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Men marcheert<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op de repeterende tik.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 567]<\/div>\r\n

Blues<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Men wandelt op een veer<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in tweekwartmaat en fluit.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Er hapert meestal niets.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een enkeling, te opgewonden, maakt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een hinkelsprong te vroeg.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Gedrang, syncopisch oponthoud<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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om wat, om wie?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Om wie lichtzinnig in haar enkels voelt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de hapering waar het om draait,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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maar weggewimpeld met haar haar.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 568]<\/div>\r\n

Een uitzonderlijk zacht gekraak<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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uit Londen hield de natie bijeen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Later (de oorlog heeft het jongensgezicht van mijn vader)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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verscholen in bed<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ontlokte ik het aan mijn kleine diode<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die alle talen babylonisch versmolt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tot die ene geruststelling: men is niet alleen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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er niet voor niets. Een Italiaanse zong zich los<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tot over de Alpen en deelde<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bevend in de bedrading<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mijn bed.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 569]<\/div>\r\n

Voor strijkers<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Een cycladische god bouwde de vrouw.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Niemand speelde met haar.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Alleen de wind beproefde haar schuchter<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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maar hield meer van riet.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Eeuwen verstreken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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De grieken floten op hun botten en vochten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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tot de wereld er ongeveer uitzag als nu.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Van de cycladen weten we niets.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Onbespeelbare dames staren ons aan,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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reikhalzend nog steeds naar een snaar.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 570]<\/div>\r\n

Berceuse<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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De kop gekromd maar stram<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de deining meester die de strijker velt.<\/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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Stoelen wijken met ontzag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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voor zoveel luister op \u00e9\u00e9n poot.<\/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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Erbinnen is het nacht,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de schaduwzijde van geluid.<\/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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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Luister, liggend op \u00e9\u00e9n oor,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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de cello spint.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n

Vocalise<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Natuurlijk spreken vissen niet.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Hun bellen stijgen ten hemel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en spatten verzaligd uiteen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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met het soortelijk gewicht van een lied.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
\n

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

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

[p. 565] Paul Meeuws Gedichten Wals \u00a0 Zonnige zaterdag, twaalf uur. \u00a0 Het wiel draait aan de orgelman, \u00a0 de zon draait om de straat. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Een houten herderin leert mij een wals, \u00a0 de pirouette van een boor. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 De klank vliedt van het middelpunt, \u00a0 flegmatisch mechaniek, \u00a0 dat… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-301405","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nPaul Meeuws 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\/paul-meeuwsgedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Paul Meeuws Gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 565] Paul Meeuws Gedichten Wals \u00a0 Zonnige zaterdag, twaalf uur. \u00a0 Het wiel draait aan de orgelman, \u00a0 de zon draait om de straat. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Een houten herderin leert mij een wals, \u00a0 de pirouette van een boor. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 De klank vliedt van het middelpunt, \u00a0 flegmatisch mechaniek, \u00a0 dat... 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