T: Herman van Veen
Eva Schuurman
ET: Lori Spee
M: Herman van Veen

jaar: 2012

You wanted to be
Edith perhaps,
Edith Piaf
or Vera Lynn
but instead became
my dedicated,
tunny mama.

You wanted to be
Doris perhaps,
Doris Day
or the wife of Piggelmee,
who lived inside
a gray stone jar
not too far from the sea.

A life long spent
on dusting, cooking,
polishing the floor.

A life long spent
resistance in the war,

the Germans' whores,
Jews in hiding, ration books,
concentration camps,
the flames and the debris.

The hunger winter,
liberation day,
the fifth of May, marching music
papa sick.

And that my funny mama said:
"Oh no, he can't pass on.
Take me instead,
and not my Jan."

You wanted to go
to school perhaps,
to middle school or so,
to be a nurse
and tend the sick
or just ride in a UFO.

You wanted perhaps
to be a governess
for her Majesty,
the Queen,
but just became
my courtly,
fanny mama.

You acted then
when lilacs bloomed
as if you were asleep,
just as the nurse was
on her way
to get a diaper.

Someone pushed
the window open.
And then a sigh flew
from vour mouth,
it could have been a bird.
And far away
we heard a train cry out.

Your little bird
flew towards the sky
and in the marketplace,

verschenen op:

* For a Kiss (2012)