| January 1943 for Joeki Broedelet
 
 I walked the cart track
 on a sharp winter's day
 
 I was met by my mother
 figurine in the distance
 
 The night before I dreamed
 that I sailed a little ship
 
 My hand caressed the duckweed
 in the glittering ditch
 
 The ship sailed to the other side
 and got entangled in the vegetation
 
 I looked up and saw my father
 he stuck his arm through the barbed wire
 
 He looked at me imploringly
 my father asked me for bread
 
 On that country road, mother
 you held me tight in a long embrace
 
 Your eyes were red
 your coat reeked of the town
 
 The German by postcard reported
 my father he was dead
 
 In Neuegamme, bitter place
 there they had murdered him
 
 I felt nothing
 but knew that I had to feel something
 
 Looked along my mother's sleeve
 to the tempting forest
 
 Only when I could I talked nineteen to the dozen
 about what really occupied my mind
 
 The snare I had set
 in front of the rabbit hole
 
 The hut I was building
 in the tree that nobody knew
 
 Later on I felt  pain
 that never went away
 
 Which still racks my body
 as I write this
 
 Long ago, yet close by
 lasting one man's lifetime
 
 20-2-1980
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|  |  | Remco Campert [1929] |  
 
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