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  1. ‘Il y a’ poème par Guillaume Apollinaire
  2. Eugene Field: At the Door
  3. J.H. Leopold: Ik ben een zwerver overal
  4. My window pane is broken by Lesbia Harford
  5. Van Gogh: Poets and Lovers in The National Gallery London
  6. Eugene Field: The Advertiser
  7. CROSSING BORDER – International Literature & Music Festival The Hague
  8. Expositie Adya en Otto van Rees in het Stedelijk Museum Schiedam
  9. Machinist’s Song by Lesbia Harford
  10. “Art says things that history cannot”: Beatriz González in De Pont Museum

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Hadewijch Gedichten

H a d e w i j c h

(ca. 1200-1250)

Die voghele hebben langhe geswegen

Die voghele hebben langhe geswegen
Die blide waren hier te voren.
Hare bliscap es gheleghen
Dies si den somer hebben verloren.
Si souden herden saen gheseghen
Hadden sine weder ghecreghen,
Want si hebbenne vore al vercoren,
Ende daer toe worden si gheboren.
Dat machmen dan an hen wel horen.

Ic swighe vander voghele claghe
– Hare vroude, hare pine, es saen vergaen –
Ende claghe dat mi meer meshaghe:
Die minne, daer wij na souden staen,
Dat ons verweghet hare edele waghe,
Ende nemen vremde na ghelaghe.
Sone mach ons minne niet ontfaen.
Ay, wat ons nederheit heeft ghedaen!
Wie sal ons die ontrouwe verslaen?

Die moghende metter sterker handt,
Op hen verlatic mi noch sere,
Die altoes werken in minnen bandt
Ende en ontsien pine, noch leet, noch kere,
Sine willen dorevaren al dat lant
Dat minne met minnen in minnen ye vant.
Hare fine herte es so ghere,
Die weten wat minne met minnen lere
Ende hoe minne die minne met minnen ere.

Waeromme soude dan ieman sparen,
Ochtemen minne met minnen verwinnen mach,
Hine soude met nide in storme dorevaren
Op toeverlaet van minnen sach,
Ende minnen ambacht achterwaren?
Soe soude hem die edelheit openbaren.
Ay, daer verclaert der minnen dach,
Daer men vore minne nie pine en ontsach
Noch van minnen nie pine en verwach.

Dicke roepic hulpe alse die onverloeste.
Lief, wanneer ghi comen selt,
So noepti mi met nuwen troeste,
So ridic minen hoghen telt,
Ende pleghe mijns liefs als alrevroeste,
Ochte die van norden, van suden, van oesten,
Van westen al ware in mijnre ghewelt.
So werdic saen te voete ghevelt.
Ay, wat holpe mijn ellende vertelt!

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