Tag: poetry

Ruygoord

Ruygoord


dertig jaren vrijhaven
tegen alle verdrukking
komen stammen tezamen
tussen aarde en water

totems tenten banieren
trommen geven welkomstsein
weerklank antwoord harteklop
voeten dansen binnenkomst

vanuit oude duistere diepte
roepen stemmen hongerig dorstig
koude ketens rammelen razen
grijze muren wankelen weldra

wijnheer opent onderwereld
rode druppels voeden velen
grauwe schimmen breken banden
kleuren geuren keren weerom

dwaze sjamaan op dromenreis
zonder cirkel of ankersteen
vergat plaatsen en getijden
spoedig dwalend in droomtijd

rode krijgsvrouw bewaakt grenzen
woorden-smeder verlicht baken
droomschip bezeilt hemelvuren
doler hervindt huiswaarts wegen

voorgoed ontwaakt echter
diepzee-machten voorwaar
stemmen eisen gehoor
schimmen tonen gezicht

wie zal leiden legerscharen
heer der wegen wilde jager
voorwaarts snellen schaduwkrijgers
donder bliksem klieven hemel

Echo van Atlantis

Echo van Atlantis


Op hoogste bergtop
Wankelt Poseidons tempel
Vallend voor vloedgolf

Roodgouden koepel
Gedragen door pilaren
Marmeren vierschaar

Hoog hemel altaar
Vierkant in cirkel voorwaar
Vlam danst wervelwind

Wij hebben gedanst
Samen rondom koningsboom
Springend over vuren

Liefde voor eeuwig
Leven na leven samen
Steeds weer verbonden

Zwaard en speer in hand
Schild en helm beschermen mij
Niet tegen elementen

Dwaasheid en hoogmoed
Koning en Priester beide
Brachten ons noodlot

Stond jij toen naast mij
Mijn eerste en laatste lief
Wreed eindigt droomtijd

Treurwilg aan rivier
Groene draak in diepe rust
Drievoet van staven

Waarheen zijn zij nu
Verdwenen in vloedgolven
Van woedende zee

In welk lijf woon jij
Nu nieuwe tijden komen
Zal ik je zoeken

Blood on the square

Blood on the square


A song was heard in China
in the city of Beijing.
In the spring of 1989
you could hear the people sing.
And it was the song of freedom
that was ringing in the square,
the world could feel the passion of
the people gathered there.
Oh children, blood is on the square.

For many nights and many days,
waiting in the square.
“To build a better nation”
was the song that echoed there.
“For we are China’s children,
we love our native land,
for brotherhood and freedom
we are joining hand in hand.”
Oh children, blood is on the square.

Then came the People’s army
with trucks and tanks and guns.
The government was frightened
of their daughters and their sons.
But in the square was courage and
a vision true and fair,
the Army of the People would not harm
the young ones there.
Oh children, blood is on the square.

On June the 3rd in China,
in the spring of ’89,
an order came from high above
and passed on down the line.
The soldiers opened fire,
young people bled and died,
the blood of thousands on the square
that lies can never hide.
Oh children, blood is on the square.

For four more days of fury
the people faced the guns.
How many thousands slaughtered
when their grisly work was done?
they quickly burned the bodies
to hide their coward’s shame,
but blood is thick upon their hands and
darkness on their names.
Oh children, blood is on the square.

There are tears that flow in China
for her children that are gone.
There is fear and there is hiding,
for the killing still goes on.
And the iron hand of terror can
buy silence for today,
but the blood that lies upon the square
cannot be washed away.
Oh children, blood is on the square.

blood is on the square

MuLan

MuLan


Tsiek tsiek and again tsiek tsiek,
Mu-lan weaves, facing the door.
You don’t hear the shuttle’s sound,
You only hear Daughter’s sighs.

They ask Daughter who’s in her heart,
They ask Daughter who’s on her mind.
“No one is on Daughter’s heart,
No one is on Daughter’s mind.

Last night I saw the draft posters,
The Khan is calling many troops,
The army list is in twelve scrolls,
On every scroll there’s Father’s name.

Father has no grown-up son,
Mu-lan has no elder brother.
I want to buy a saddle and horse,
And serve in the army in Father’s place.”

In the East Market she buys a spirited horse,
In the West Market she buys a saddle,
In the South Market she buys a bridle,
In the North Market she buys a long whip.

At dawn she takes leave of Father and Mother,
In the evening camps on the Yellow River’s bank.
She doesn’t hear the sound of Father and Mother calling,
She only hears the Yellow River’s flowing water cry tsien tsien.

At dawn she takes leave of the Yellow River,
In the evening she arrives at Black Mountain.
She doesn’t hear the sound of Father and Mother calling,
She only hears Mount Yen’s nomad horses cry tsiu tsiu.

She goes ten thousand miles on the business of war,
She crosses passes and mountains like flying.
Northern gusts carry the rattle of army pots,
Chilly light shines on iron armor.

Generals die in a hundred battles,
Stout soldiers return after ten years.
On her return she sees the Son of Heaven,
The Son of Heaven sits in the Splendid Hall.

He gives out promotions in twelve ranks
And prizes of a hundred thousand and more.
The Khan asks her what she desires.
“Mu-lan has no use for a minister’s post.

I wish to ride a swift mount
To take me back to my home.”
When Father and Mother hear Daughter is coming
They go outside the wall to meet her, leaning on each other.

When Elder Sister hears Younger Sister is coming
She fixes her rouge, facing the door.
When Little Brother hears Elder Sister is coming
He whets the knife, quick quick, for pig and sheep.

“I open the door to my east chamber,
I sit on my couch in the west room,
I take off my wartime gown
And put on my old-time clothes.”

Facing the window she fixes her cloudlike hair,
Hanging up a mirror she dabs on yellow flower powder
She goes out the door and sees her comrades.
Her comrades are all amazed and perplexed.

Traveling together for twelve years
They didn’t know Mu-lan was a girl.
“The he-hare’s feet go hop and skip,
The she-hare’s eyes are muddled and fuddled

Two hares running side by side close to the ground,
How can they tell if I am he or she?

Anonymous (c.5 A.D.)

A Hunting we will go

A Hunting we will go


A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
We’ll catch a fox and put him in a box
And then we’ll let him go

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
We’ll catch a fish and put him on a dish
And then we’ll let him go

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
We’ll catch a bear and cut his hair
And then we’ll let him go

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
We’ll catch a pig and dance a little jig
And then we’ll let him go

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go
A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go
We’ll catch a giraffe and make him laugh
And then we’ll let him go

Over the rainbow

Over the rainbow


Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

Some day I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can’t I?
Some day I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can’t I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?

(Arlen-Harburg)

For Everyman

For Everyman


Everybody I talk to is ready to leave
With the light of the morning
Theyve seen the end coming down long enough to believe
That theyve heard their last warning
Standing alone
Each has his own ticket in his hand
And as the evening descends
I sit thinking bout everyman

Seems like Ive always been looking for some other place
To get it together
Where with a few of my friends I could give up the race
And maybe find something better
But all my fine dreams
Well though out schemes to gain the motherland
Have all eventually come down to waiting for everyman

Waiting here for everyman–
Make it on your own if you think you can
If you see somewhere to go I understand
Waiting here for everyman–
Dont ask me if hell show — baby I dont know

Make it on your own if you think you can
Somewhere later on youll have to take a stand
Then youre going to need a hand

Everybodys just waiting to hear from the one
Who can give them the answers
And lead them back to that place in the warmth of the sun
Where sweet childhood still dances
Wholl come along
And hold out that strong and gentle fathers hand?
Long ago I heard someone say something bout everyman

Waiting here for everyman–
Make it on your own if you think you can
If you see somewhere to go I understand

Im not trying to tell you that Ive seen the plan
Turn and walk away if you think I am–
But dont think too badly of one whos left holding sand
Hes just another dreamer, dreaming bout everyman

Jackson Browne

Aan wie niet bidden met gesloten ogen

Aan wie niet bidden met gesloten ogen


Ik zocht naar God, ik heb hem niet gevonden
in synagoge, kerk of in moskee
Waar een rabbijn, imam of dominee
met donderpreken op de kansel stonden

Ik zocht naar God in bundels met gebeden
Ik zocht naar Hem in bijbel en brevier
Maar alles wat ik vond dat was papier
Met woorden die mij bitter weinig deden

Ik zocht naar God, ik vond Hem in de bossen
Hij sprak tot mij in duizend vogelzangen
Ik zag Hem in de bloemen in het perk

Hij speelde met de reeën en de vossen
En met een briesje streek Hij langs mijn wangen
Ik zocht naar God en vond Hem aan het werk

Onzichtbaar voor het oog van theologen
Lacht Hij ons toe en troost ons keer op keer
En Hij vertoont zich alle dagen weer
Aan wie niet bidden met gesloten ogen

© Martijn Breeman