{"id":303349,"date":"1999-01-01T00:01:02","date_gmt":"1998-12-31T23:01:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/anneke-brassingavijf-gedichten\/"},"modified":"2021-06-04T18:27:19","modified_gmt":"2021-06-04T17:27:19","slug":"anneke-brassingavijf-gedichten","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/anneke-brassingavijf-gedichten\/","title":{"rendered":"Anneke Brassinga\r\nVijf gedichten"},"content":{"rendered":"
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[p. 475]<\/div>\r\n <\/interp><\/a>\r\n

\r\nAnneke Brassinga<\/i>\r\n
\r\nVijf gedichten<\/h3>\r\n\r\n
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Moederdag<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Achter de kastanje die krankzinnig is<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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geworden van de brullende merels, heel<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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mooi zoetgevooisd melodieus maar toch<\/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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als woedt er een uitslaande orgelbrand<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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in de kathedraal (komt allen nu samen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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met blus dan wel spade, geen kelken A\u00e4rons<\/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 klokjesblommen! kwelen zij a capella)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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– ten spoedigste, wat heet, ijlings wordt<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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onze stort van tranen ingewacht -; achter hem<\/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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die als een baltsende jezusboom van top tot<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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bijkans teen zijn mansdeelrijzige kaarsen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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walmzoet en al lekkend heeft ontstoken,<\/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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staat goddank haveloos, volslagen kaal<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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het takkelijf van moeder esdoorn lief<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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te wenken: Kind, kop op! Al haast weer<\/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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winter! Schrale jij ontroost, mompel ik,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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ontroostbaar nu eenmaal van heimwee<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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naar vroeger, toen voorjaar bestond<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>
[p. 476]<\/div>
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zonder mij. Maar van weeromstuit rollen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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uit mijn knikkers weke parels en stralen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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sterren in hun bloeddoorlopen breken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Nabij, nabij o en voorgoed nabij o<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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koude klonterpap van modderdonker<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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merelloos het binnenste der aarde schoot.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 477]<\/div>\r\n
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KV 271
\r\n(pianoconcert nr. 9 in Es-Dur)<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Regen stijgt bij heldere lucht – stamelingen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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zij dwalen maar wat, zweven blijvend buigen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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alle tonen ten mineure af en mee met hun wijken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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glipt het hart. De uitverkorene die de muziek<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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mag horen als geen ander en altijd voor het eerst<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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ben je niet meer en nooit meer. Maar nog even<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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hoef je niet de regen van je kranke leven in.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 478]<\/div>\r\n
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KV 450
\r\n(pianoconcert nr. 15 in B-Dur)<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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… en dat het zoveel donkerder is hier,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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waar het ook zij en sinds wanneer? Terwijl de muziek<\/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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maar blijft doorgaan in retrograde beweging,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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je weet waarheen. De kleinste fraseringen alleen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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nog klinkend als nieuw en des te noodlottiger<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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want je kunt er niet uit, het stromend concert<\/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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van Wolfgang A. stuwt naar verleden – het is<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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overal. Hoe kan gestorvenheid zo jachtig zijn<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en zonder plek? Een schuurlap van wassend water.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Wat geliefd was heeft de ruimte ingenomen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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die je scheen uitgespaard in meegaand omhelzen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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toen alles op weg was, naar later – nu hier.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 479]<\/div>\r\n
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Overzij<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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Te lang heb je geloofd dat niets je deren kon<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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en nu pas in omzien die priemende schotsen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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op de vluchtweg, bevroren rivier. Je voeten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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ze blijven voor eeuwig erbarmelijk bloeden.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n
[p. 480]<\/div>\r\n
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Kwatrijn<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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In krijten, zuchten sleept zich<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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de dagen door ‘n leproos van lust.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Te dragen zwaar het eertijds lichte:<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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haar smartenslijf sinds gij ‘t gekust.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>
\n

Over het gehele werk<\/h3>\n

Tirade<\/a><\/p>\n

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

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

[p. 475] Anneke Brassinga Vijf gedichten Moederdag \u00a0 Achter de kastanje die krankzinnig is \u00a0 geworden van de brullende merels, heel \u00a0 mooi zoetgevooisd melodieus maar toch \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 als woedt er een uitslaande orgelbrand \u00a0 in de kathedraal (komt allen nu samen \u00a0 met blus dan wel spade, geen kelken A\u00e4rons \u00a0 \u00a0… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-303349","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nAnneke Brassinga Vijf 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\/anneke-brassingavijf-gedichten\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Anneke Brassinga Vijf gedichten · Uitgeverij Van Oorschot\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"[p. 475] Anneke Brassinga Vijf gedichten Moederdag \u00a0 Achter de kastanje die krankzinnig is \u00a0 geworden van de brullende merels, heel \u00a0 mooi zoetgevooisd melodieus maar toch \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 als woedt er een uitslaande orgelbrand \u00a0 in de kathedraal (komt allen nu samen \u00a0 met blus dan wel spade, geen kelken A\u00e4rons \u00a0 \u00a0... 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