Sunday 18 January 2015

January 1943 by Remco Campert


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
Remco Campert [1929]


Original title: Januari 1943 - From: Raster 15/1980- Tijdschrift in boekvorm,  Uitgeverij De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam

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