I went to Bommel to see the bridge.
I saw the new bridge. Two opposite sides
that in the past appeared to avoid each other,
are again neighbors. But in the few moments
that I lay there, in the grass, drank my tea,
my head full of the landscape far and wide—
in the middle of this endlessness, from nowhere,
I heard a voice that sounded in my ears.
It was a woman. The ship that she steered
came slowly downstream running under the bridge.
She was alone on deck, she stood next to the rudder,
from what she sang I heard that they were psalms.
O, I thought, o, that there was my mother sailing.
Praise God, she sang, His hand will care for you.
Martinus Nijhoff (1894 - 1953) The Netherlands
Translated by Cliff Crego
Source: Picture Poems by Cliff Crego
I saw the new bridge. Two opposite sides
that in the past appeared to avoid each other,
are again neighbors. But in the few moments
that I lay there, in the grass, drank my tea,
my head full of the landscape far and wide—
in the middle of this endlessness, from nowhere,
I heard a voice that sounded in my ears.
It was a woman. The ship that she steered
came slowly downstream running under the bridge.
She was alone on deck, she stood next to the rudder,
from what she sang I heard that they were psalms.
O, I thought, o, that there was my mother sailing.
Praise God, she sang, His hand will care for you.
Martinus Nijhoff (1894 - 1953) The Netherlands
Translated by Cliff Crego
Source: Picture Poems by Cliff Crego
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