{"id":301432,"date":"1984-01-01T00:00:09","date_gmt":"1983-12-31T23:00:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/cees-van-hooregedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:05:51","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:05:51","slug":"cees-van-hooregedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/cees-van-hooregedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Cees van Hoore\r\n\r\nGedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 77]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nCees van Hoore<\/i>\r\n\r\n
\r\nGedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Avond op het land<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Sloten vol groene paletten; uit elk duimgat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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steekt een in gele verf gedoopte kwast.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Overhemden juichen op een achtererf. De wind<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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haalt zijn grove kam door het gras.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Achter een venster worden gezichten schoksgewijs belicht<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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alsof ze naar een reeks explosies staren. Gelaten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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sleept vee zijn doedelzak mee. De verte is bepluimd<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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met sproeiers die de aarde laven.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een haas richt zijn oren. Het is de indiaan niet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die uit mijn jeugd geslopen komt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Huiswaarts fiets ik. Zwijgend.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Zo komen er nooit vliegen in mijn mond.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 78]<\/div>\r\n

Flush<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Verslaafd aan het applaus<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van eenden<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hun vlucht boven het ven.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Diep snoof hij de dood in<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zoals de wijnkenner<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een vreemd bouquet.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Van patrijzen die hij aandroeg<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kneusde hij geen vleugelpen;<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ze schenen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uit stillevens te zijn weggegrist.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Nu de wind het gras<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tegen de aarde houdt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zie ik hem weer:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hij graaft verwoed<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op de plek waar hij ligt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 79]<\/div>\r\n

Samos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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De rustige omgeving klopt:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dit verblijf biedt uitzicht<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op een kerkhof<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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‘s Morgens haalt een vrouw<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de vazen weg.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Zeelucht vreet in.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Tegen de schemering –<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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o, welke vogel in de heg<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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fluit telkens hetzelfde? –<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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brengt zij ze<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gepoetst en zonder bloemen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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terug naar de graven.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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In de laatste vaas<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bekijkt ze snel haar mond.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Nooit zag ik iemand mooier en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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trouwer een leegte ronddragen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
\n

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

Cees van Hoore<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 77] Cees van Hoore Gedichten Avond op het land \u00a0 Sloten vol groene paletten; uit elk duimgat \u00a0 steekt een in gele verf gedoopte kwast. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Overhemden juichen op een achtererf. De wind \u00a0 haalt zijn grove kam door het gras. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Achter een venster worden gezichten schoksgewijs belicht \u00a0… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-301432","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nCees van Hoore 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\/cees-van-hooregedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Cees van Hoore Gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 77] Cees van Hoore Gedichten Avond op het land \u00a0 Sloten vol groene paletten; uit elk duimgat \u00a0 steekt een in gele verf gedoopte kwast. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Overhemden juichen op een achtererf. 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