{"id":302268,"date":"1991-01-01T00:01:09","date_gmt":"1990-12-31T23:01:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/h-h-ter-balkt-5\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T15:41:15","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T14:41:15","slug":"h-h-ter-balkt-5","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/h-h-ter-balkt-5\/","title":{"rendered":"H.H. ter Balkt"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 364]<\/div>\r\n<\/a>\r\n

\r\nH.H. ter Balkt<\/i>\r\n<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Oudste Nederlandse tekstfragment, \u00b1830, vindplaats nabij D.<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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.. onder de dikke tong van het onweer<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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……………………….. taal dof gegrinnik<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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… als kikkerkwaken…………………<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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…………………….. in een vuil meer<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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schrijven vuurtongen, wij straalden…<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hier….. keelzakken van de roofvissen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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regenwater…………….. gorgelt…<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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vol……….. met……….. ons goud<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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honderd pond zilver hield hen…. ver<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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.. de koude roeiers.. raaf van boord…<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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draak van hun twaalftallig stelsel…<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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rolde walrustanden naar ‘t overlaad-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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station….. modder strekte zich uit…<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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inwoners kom terug, inwoners kom terug<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
[p. 365]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Jaar 1000<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Kluizenaars rollen de heuvels af; zoeken gebergte<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in hoogland. Zet de grammofoonnaald in de groeven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van gene luchtlagen en je hoort de Dead Kennedy’s<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en \u2018Darklands\u2019 van de Jesus en Mary Chain. Woorden<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn echte huizen maar de pakhuizen staan nu leeg.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Rondtollende profeten roepen het einde van de lucht<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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af in de nagesynchroniseerde wind. Alle holle wegen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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willen vastlopen in een labyrint; kraaien en raven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn nu hertogen, bergland hurkt ineen. Procrustes<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de herbergier, verschijnt op de heuvels. ‘t Bleek<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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lam lijkt een wolf. Brood smaakt naar bloed. Dizzy<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Christus vertoont zich aan de wilgen en de vijver,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die ruiken naar kikkervel en muf riet. Hutten roken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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dapper. Wind stommelt. Misschien gaat alles verder.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 366]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Henric van Veldeke op de Hofdag van Keizer Frederik Barbarossa in Mainz (1184)<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Eerste zanger beschreef ik die Hofdag in Mainz bij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hem wiens rode baard nu in de Kyffh\u00e4user Bergen dwars<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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door een marmeren tafel groeit in een stille grot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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omringd door zijn ridders. Met Herman van Th\u00fcringen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wiens hofraaf ik was. Frederik, zullen jo\u00faw raven<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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blijven zingen na Cilici\u00eb… Wij waren verheugd el-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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kaar te zien: Marcabru, Bernart de Ventadorn, Arnaut<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Daniel of Bernart Marti, de Occitanen; en die bleue<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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makker uit ‘t noorden, Guiot de Provins, zangers wij<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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allen, snedig gezegden orakelend aan die tafel (Rood-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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baards zonen ontvingen de ridderslag), \u2018Jeugd is het<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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allerkostbaarst vaatwerk\u2019; \u2018Da wilen lach der sn\u00e9, da<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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steit nu groene cl\u00e9\u2019; messen blauw als pauwen, lief<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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blonken tanden met vochtige glans. Zang spon ons in.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 367]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Aan Cecco Angiolieri*<\/span><\/a>\r\n<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Vuur ben ik nu op een scheef dak in een stad<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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aan de rivier, het schijnt twaalfhonderdeen-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ennegentig hier, maar verder noordwaarts. IJl<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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is ‘t hemelblauw dat ik opstook met mijn sis<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en knauw, ik wist niet dat ik dit worden zou,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en ik wist niet dat ik ‘t weet. Becchina, ben<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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jij dan dit huis, of ben jij de rivier? Twaalf-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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honderdeenennegentig, ben ik nog hier? Drink-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bekers van vuur leegt het hemelblauw. Beneden,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in de kronkelstraten, vliegeren gedachten als<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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monden boven kroezen bier. Tussen ‘t kraken door<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van murwe balken, asfonteinen, deel ik ‘t jullie<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mee: een grote vreugde of een grote pijn, ofwel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ze storten zangen; ongeluk – of ze worden vuur<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 368]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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De alchemist<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Verrichtte het grote werk onder mijn rietdak,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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roer in de vaten, terneergeslagen natuur rondom<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de hoeve. Ik volg Raymundus Lullus die een kar<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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volgde getrokken door een os. Ik was goochem!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Ik was een zaaier. ‘t Elixir schiep ik, roerend<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in mijn kolven, sneeuwde sneeuw neer of regende<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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maanlicht. Een volgeling van Prometheus, altijd<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in de weer voor mijn rode vlammen, verarmde staag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mijn huis en hof. Bij mijn lief brak de vuursteen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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laat; ik dromer voor mijn vaten, de hydra, schild-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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pad en pelikaan, aanbad Mercurius of Hermes, was<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zandloper van kwik en kwikstroom, in diepe slaap<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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verankerd aan mijn vloeren. Ziende blind was ik<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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blindeman. Barre etser etst ons oud haar en dak.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 369]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Terugkeer van de pelgrim<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Dooreengeschud op karren, golven, door varen, rijden,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zien, kom ik, moza\u00efek!, landstreek, terug. Mijn tong<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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een lik rode aarde uit verre gaard, een boomstronk<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op vergeten hellingen mijn lever, mijn hart vulkaan-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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steen onder sterren amber als paardeogen verweg<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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stralend. Terug, de dansende jaren waren nog sneller<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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gegaan dan ‘t trillen van de staartveer aan de kwik-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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staart. Mijn angsten een ankertros uit een kust-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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stad, mijn hersens een walnotenbos in Moldavi\u00eb, en<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mijn ogen Venetiaans glas: generfd lijkt het groen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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van de rivier, en aan alle bomen kabbelen golven!<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Carillon uit Damiate mijn strot en mijn stem een<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bundel zweepslagen op paarde- en ezelsruggen; op<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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tafel fles Egyptisch duister in ‘t oosten gekocht.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 370]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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De nar<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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Molenwiekend staan de molens in de wind die rode<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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braamstruiken aan hun dorens lokken net als een<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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blauw haasje en mij, molenwiekend met mijn wijde<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mouwen: daar zit ik dan, met een krans van krassen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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versierd, zie de gele maan oprijzen boven bronzen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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transen, hoor een ver lied enkele voetstappen of<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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seconden voordat de stadspoort knarsend sluit. Uil<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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vliegt over, niet ruisend. Het is augustus, braam-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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stengels nog zonder braam. Links de stad, rechts ‘t<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hof dat ik diende, kruipend in het stof, mijn zots-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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kap tingelend, mijn zotskolf hoog. Een dwaas als ik<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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laat zich zelfs door een kat die aan een houten pin<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zich dood houdt, niet meer foppen. Rinkel, belletjes<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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aan de braam! Haas, ren! Verre bossen, ik kom eraan<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n
[p. 371]<\/div>\r\n

Laaglandse hymnen\r\n
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Roofburcht; winternacht<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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De gracht potdicht; ik ben de alien; kwam ongemerkt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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onder de poorttorentjes, door de weergang. De kennel,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het bakhuis, de brouwerij vast in slaap. Diep zwart-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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groene snaren van dennen aan de horizon, verwikkeld<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in verzilverde netten van sterren en maan, kraken in<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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‘n hardbevroren hemel. Mastermind spelend in de voor-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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zaal met de wespenkoning en de wespenkoningin, zit<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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‘n minstreel uit Zuidland: moe rinkelt zilvermunt in<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zijn slinkende buidel. De kapelaan krabbelt orakel-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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taal in zijn kasboek; kinderen, meiden en knechten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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ritselen in het stro; tussen hondekaken maalt ‘n in-<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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wit bot; onderin de kerker, de wenteltrap af, zuchten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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onrechtvaardig bestraften, wachtend op de dag dat<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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hun uithongering eindigt; de dennen knarsen verder.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
\n

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

H.H. ter Balkt<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div>

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\r\n*<\/span><\/a>\r\n<\/dt>\r\n
?1260-1313<\/dd>\r\n<\/dl>\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 364] H.H. ter Balkt Laaglandse hymnen 11 Oudste Nederlandse tekstfragment, \u00b1830, vindplaats nabij D. \u00a0 .. onder de dikke tong van het onweer \u00a0 ……………………….. taal dof gegrinnik \u00a0 … als kikkerkwaken………………… \u00a0 …………………….. in een vuil meer \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 schrijven vuurtongen, wij straalden… \u00a0 hier….. keelzakken van de roofvissen \u00a0 regenwater…………….. gorgelt…… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-302268","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nH.H. ter Balkt · 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\/h-h-ter-balkt-5\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"H.H. ter Balkt · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 364] H.H. ter Balkt Laaglandse hymnen 11 Oudste Nederlandse tekstfragment, \u00b1830, vindplaats nabij D. \u00a0 .. onder de dikke tong van het onweer \u00a0 ……………………….. taal dof gegrinnik \u00a0 … als kikkerkwaken………………… \u00a0 …………………….. in een vuil meer \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 schrijven vuurtongen, wij straalden… \u00a0 hier….. keelzakken van de roofvissen \u00a0 regenwater…………….. gorgelt…... 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