Embark on a poetic odyssey through the heart of Dutch expression at "PoëziePracht." This digital platform invites you to immerse yourself in the rich tapestry of Dutch poetry, where words become brushstrokes painting landscapes of emotion, tradition, and contemporary life. From the timeless verses of Vondel to the vibrant voices of today, our curated collection encapsulates the beauty and diversity of Dutch poetic expression. Whether you are a seasoned poetry connoisseur or a curious newcomer, "PoëziePracht" beckons you to explore the rhythmic symphony of the Dutch language as it weaves tales of tulip-strewn fields, windmill-kissed skies, and the intricacies of the human experience. Join us in celebrating the artistry of Dutch verse.
Twee dichters zaten buiten in 't gras,
En beiden dachten ze 't zelfde, en hun ogen
Keken elkander aan, verwonderd-klagen,
En 't was of langs hun wangen gleden enige tranen.
Maar de een begon te spreken:
--'t Is of de tuinman nimmer komt,
En of de bloemen zelf niet weten
Waar zij staan en hoe zij heten,
En of zij dolen en dolen zouden,
En 't is of zij heimwee hebben naar den tuinman,
En of zij zouden willen vragen:
"Waar blijft de tuinman toch, waar blijft hij?"
En de ander sprak:
--'t Is of de tuinman komt,
En of hij spreekt en spreekt tot de bloemen,
En of de bloemen luistren,
En of zij zuchten van verrukking
En in zichzelf zich zelven prijzen
Om hun bestaan, om 't schoon bestaan.
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Two poets sat outside in the grass,
And both were thinking the same, and their eyes
Looked at each other, surprised lamenting,
And it was as if some tears slid along their cheeks.
But one began to speak:
--It's as if the gardener never comes,
And as if the flowers themselves do not know
Where they stand and what they are called,
And as if they wander and would keep wandering,
And it's as if they long for the gardener,
And as if they would want to ask:
"Where is the gardener, where is he?"
And the other said:
--It's as if the gardener comes,
And as if he speaks and speaks to the flowers,
And as if the flowers listen,
And as if they sigh in rapture
And praise themselves within themselves
For their existence, for the beautiful existence.