Thursday 20 November 2014

At home alone by C. Buddingh'

At home alone

Stientje has gone to Eindhoven for two days.
I'm at home alone, well: besides Sam
and Peerke: also excellent company,
but it's just like everything is dulled.

The chairs and tables, though long familiar,
like surly strangers surround me.
I've even no appetite for Montherlant or Auden.
I just pour myself another glass of whisky.

Such an empty bedroom in your own house:
it's as if you're prowling through a mausoleum.
I pick up a bottle with still some 'Je reviens'

in it and shake a little drop on my wrist.
Now I can still smell her a bit.
O, dear God, return her home save and sound. 



(Original title: 'Alleen in huis' -from the collection 'De tweede zestig', 1979 - Uitgeverij De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam)
C. Buddingh' [1918-1985]

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