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Auden, W.H.

· W. H. Auden: Stop all the clocks, vertaling C.W. Schoneveld

W. H. Auden: Stop all the clocks, vertaling C.W. Schoneveld

W. H. Auden

(1907-1973)

 

Stopp all the clocks

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

 

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

 

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

Stop elke klok

Stop elke klok, zet telefoons ook af,

Voorkom met sappige kluiven hondengeblaf,

Smoor alle piano’s, en omfloers de trom,

Hef nu de doodskist, en rouwenden kom.

 

Laat schrijvend en huilend een vliegtuigvloot

‘t Luchtruim rondgaan met de tijding: Hij is Dood,

Laat rouwkragen om witte stadsduif-nekken doen,

Handschoen verkeerspolitie in zwarte katoen.

 

Hij was mijn oost, mijn west, mijn zuid en noord,

Mijn wekelijks werk, en mijn rustdag-oord,

Mijn nacht, mijn ochtend, mijn zang, mijn kout;

Ik dacht dat liefde eeuwig bleef: ik had dat fout.

 

De sterren zijn zinloos nu: laat alle vergaan;

Doof ook de zon, en ontmantel de maan;

Zwiep de bossen weg, en verspil eb en vloed.

Want nu komt niets en niemendal nog ooit weer goed

 

vertaling: Cornelis W. Schoneveld


See website youtube: ◊ Four Weddings and a Funeral

kempis.nl poetry magazine

More in: Archive A-B, Auden, Auden, W.H.


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