{"id":301486,"date":"1984-01-01T00:00:46","date_gmt":"1983-12-31T23:00:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/harry-mesteromgedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:06:09","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:06:09","slug":"harry-mesteromgedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/harry-mesteromgedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Harry Mesterom\r\n\r\nGedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 399]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nHarry Mesterom<\/i>\r\n\r\n
\r\nGedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Mos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Mos op mos, zo werd mos bos,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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lang voor het stenen en treden beklom,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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steden en dorpen binnendrong,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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langs slinkse wegen, dronken van regen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Zo trok het de harde wereld in<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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om voor de nodige rust te zorgen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zachte bedden van verbeelding op de rug,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in plaats van de mensen mores te leren.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Oorlogen voerde het zelfs met bont,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in schuilkelders, binnensmonds. En nog<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kom je het overal tegen, tussen de tegels<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en tussen de regels, bijna een<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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archeologiese vondst; in een jaszak<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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na een boswandeling; op het dashboard<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van een oude auto soms.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Drie dagen lang spookt het nu al<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door mijn hoofd, of het zich af<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wil zetten op rook.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 400]<\/div>
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Zachter sterfbed bestaat er niet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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weten de vallende bladeren. Geen grafsteen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kan zich beter wensen dan de nagedachtenis<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van deze of gene, lieve, lieve<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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verloren zoon, zo onvergetelijk uitgewist<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door wat een ikoon van korstmos is.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 401]<\/div>\r\n

Lage zon<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Geen voetlicht dat het vuur<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zo na aan de schenen legt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van wie niet maakt dat hij wegkomt,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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weg van de plek<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die hij beter kent<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dan zichzelf.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wie zegt dat hij niet weet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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waar het bloed dat hier vloeit<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vandaan komt?<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Een vreemde gloed bekruipt hem,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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alsof hij zich voor wat hij ziet<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zou moeten schamen. Maar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hij schaamt zich niet.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wat voor zijn ogen oplaait,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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verbleekt vergeleken bij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de uitslaande brand<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van een opengeslagen krant,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 402]<\/div>
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die hij amper lezen kan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zonder in gedachten zelf<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vlam te vatten, en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zelfs verfrommeld tot prop<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dagen later nog gloeiend<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn strot uit komt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Al zou hij kunnen schreeuwen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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als een schilderij van Munch,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dan nog zou niemand hem horen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Er is niets aan te doen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 403]<\/div>\r\n

Blinde passagier<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Blinde passagier,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dwalend over waterwegen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uitgesleten in zee\u00ebn van tijd.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Wankelend over omgewoelde oceanen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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las een dronken boer achter zijn ploeg<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op het land; even vertrouwd met<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de nasleep van meeuwen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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als de eerste de beste zeeman.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Geen haven van hier tot de horizon<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dan de onlesbare dorst<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van een schip in een fles.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Geen vis in het water<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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raakt ooit verder van huis dan hij,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wanneer hij met zijn wandelstok<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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over de reling in de verte wijst.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 404]<\/div>\r\n

Flamenco<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Pas toen ze met haar hoge hakken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op zijn ziel was gaan staan,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kreeg hij het van haar te pakken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Rozen die ze zomaar vertrapte,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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waren de hete kolen waarop ze danste,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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of ze in lichtelaaie stond.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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De kleinste vonk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die van haar oversprong,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zette hem nog in vuur en vlam.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 405]<\/div>\r\n

Siesta<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Quevedo, G\u00f3ngora en Lorca.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Namen die als vliegen zoemen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tijdens de si\u00ebsta.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Al gaat het er nog zo<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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spaans aan toe, nooit<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wordt ik hun weerklank moe.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 406]<\/div>\r\n

La paloma<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Van een vuist vol veren<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een gevleugeld woord gemaakt.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Met een tumult –<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Of er een einde kwam<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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aan engelengeduld.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
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Over dit hoofdstuk\/artikel<\/h3>\n

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

[p. 399] Harry Mesterom Gedichten Mos \u00a0 Mos op mos, zo werd mos bos, \u00a0 lang voor het stenen en treden beklom, \u00a0 steden en dorpen binnendrong, \u00a0 langs slinkse wegen, dronken van regen. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Zo trok het de harde wereld in \u00a0 om voor de nodige rust te zorgen, \u00a0 zachte bedden… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-301486","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nHarry Mesterom 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\/harry-mesteromgedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Harry Mesterom Gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 399] Harry Mesterom Gedichten Mos \u00a0 Mos op mos, zo werd mos bos, \u00a0 lang voor het stenen en treden beklom, \u00a0 steden en dorpen binnendrong, \u00a0 langs slinkse wegen, dronken van regen. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Zo trok het de harde wereld in \u00a0 om voor de nodige rust te zorgen, \u00a0 zachte bedden... 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