Tuesday 20 December 2016

Bergambacht by Ulrich Jeltema

Bergambacht

I wander along the Lekdyke
and smell Bergambacht,
herbs from the past.
Polderwind blowing
along the mills
Bachtenaar, Den Arend,
grinding for water and bread
beyond the Vlist,
beyond the last sin.

And there the church
inexorably large
between upward-looking
dwarf-like houses.

Autumn in the sky:
a piled-up mass of clouds
secretly blows open
for holes to the sun,
for fingers of light.

That's God's vindictive hand,
pressing against the shire's land,
against this bare soil,
the people who
are goddamned afraid
to die.

Ulrich Jeltema (1923-2005)

[no picture available]
Original title: Bergambacht - From: De tweede ronde, Tijdschrift voor literatuur, Zomer 1982 - Uitgeverij Bert Bakker BV, Amsterdam.

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