{"id":305924,"date":"1968-01-01T00:01:30","date_gmt":"1967-12-31T23:01:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/dbnl\/gedichten-van-c-buddingh-7\/"},"modified":"2021-07-08T10:53:19","modified_gmt":"2021-07-08T09:53:19","slug":"gedichten-van-c-buddingh-7","status":"publish","type":"dbnl","link":"https:\/\/www.vanoorschot.nl\/en\/dbnl\/gedichten-van-c-buddingh-7\/","title":{"rendered":"[Gedichten van C. Buddingh’]"},"content":{"rendered":"
\r\n\r\n <\/interp>
[p. 3]<\/div>\r\n

[Tirade december 1968]<\/h2>\r\n\r\n<\/a>\r\n

[Gedichten van C. Buddingh’]<\/h3>\r\n\r\n

Jeugd<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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wat zei ik: daar ligt hij weer op zijn knie\u00ebn<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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tussen de zuring en klavertjes drie in.<\/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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vingertjes wriemelend in het groen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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terwijl god de hemel staat bij te boenen.<\/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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om half vier precies begint de inspectie.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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de bijen houden alvast een collecte.<\/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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zijn vader is soms toch zo’n gekke dwalm,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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waar de meisjes zijn overal.<\/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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en zijn moeder lost een vuurrood oud besje<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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met spuitwater op in een kogelflesje.<\/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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dat mag hij straks allemaal zelf opdrinken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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als dieren dood zijn, dan gaan ze stinken.<\/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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dan liggen ze helemaal grauw en stijf.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en de vliegen kruipen over hun lijf.<\/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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maar als je een klavertje vier weet te plukken<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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dan ga je nooit dood, blijf je altijd gelukkig.<\/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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dan hoor je het huis nog wel steunen en kraken.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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maar je hart zal je nooit bonzend wakker maken.<\/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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dan lig je op heel dik fluweel van rozen.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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dan krijg je soms zelfs een meccanodoos.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nC. Buddingh’<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n

[p. 4]<\/div>\r\n

Kleine pastorale<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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op mooie zomeravonden<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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(melden reizigers uit arcadi\u00eb ons)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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trekken duizenden inwoners uit dat gebied<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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per auto, op brommer of fiets, naar de grens.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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daar zitten ze dan, op de lange terrassen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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zwijgend, of onderdrukt pratend, te luisteren<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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naar het gebulder van de kanonnen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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achter de tij mblauwe horizon.<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nC. Buddingh’<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n

[p. 5]<\/div>\r\n

Toch nog een mooie dag<\/h4>\r\n\r\n
\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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Ik wandelde door Dordt in mijn regenjas<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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gekocht op Haymarket, Londen,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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met daaronder een overhemd, ook gekocht in Londen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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(een goedkope aanbieding op Portobello Road)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
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\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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((naar later bleek toch wel met een enkel weeffoutje))<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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daarop een das gekocht in Grassington, Yorkshire<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
(\u2018expressly woven for Robert Bunney\u2019)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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en op mijn hoofd een hoed, gekocht in Truro, Cornwall<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
en ik dacht: wat jammer toch dat ik het zwartleren horlogebandje,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
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ruim twee jaar geleden gekocht in Monmouth,<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
een week of wat terug door een ander heb moeten vervangen<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\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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maar toen ik even later mijn neus moest snuiten<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
zag ik dat de zakdoek er eentje was<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
van het halve dozijn gekocht in Ilkley (eveneens Yorkshire)<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n
\r\n
\u00a0<\/div>\r\n
\r\n
en zo was het toch nog een mooie dag<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

\r\nC. Buddingh’<\/i>\r\n<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>

\n

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

C. Buddingh’<\/a><\/p>\n
\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[p. 3] [Tirade december 1968] [Gedichten van C. Buddingh’] Jeugd \u00a0 wat zei ik: daar ligt hij weer op zijn knie\u00ebn \u00a0 tussen de zuring en klavertjes drie in. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 vingertjes wriemelend in het groen \u00a0 terwijl god de hemel staat bij te boenen. \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 om half vier precies begint de… Lees verder <\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-305924","dbnl","type-dbnl","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n[Gedichten van C. 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