1. |
bosch
02:56
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ik weet niet of het land in mijn naam eerst komt of het ei. ik weet niet wat het ei is of ik zonder land kan bestaan maar mijn naam bestaat op kaarten: bant, buise, heffesant, de oude namen, de oude bomen, de zee heeft me overschreven, varen, gevaren, vergaren, water dan zand, de oostkant, de rand, het oog en de zandbank, de vraag of een zandbank voldoende is om te bestaan, ik vraag me dat af. de herinnering aan voeten, stappen. het zand dat ik was wordt, wat ik word was, word was wordt. misschien is dat het ei of het ei van einde, deinen, deinzen. ik denk aan: de bodem waar ik deel van uitmaak, zee lucht vogels vissen, het ei in het water in het land en de voeten op de boten, varen, gevaren, de golven de eb en vloed, het nieuwe land, hoger. dat me aangeraakt heeft, bedolven, verdoezeld, het land is niet gezonken, ook gezonken. de herhaling van de laatste dagen. het licht boven water, onder water. grijs troebel de graden, de wind, de winter, vandaag de dag van de vissen, de winter, de lagen, lag, ik lag hier dagen in lagen. ik zie het aan het moment waarop de nacht in de dag valt de dag in de nacht als lagen, opgeslagen, geplooide tijd, geplooid nat zand.
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2. |
ravens in winter
03:38
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First day of rain
We woke slowly
Close to the mountains
Close to the woods
The black sky, the blackest trees
The grey road, the grey roof
The whitest words, the widest world
I don’t know who you are
Were you here before?
I don’t know how long we stay
But we return in winter
Breathing the sea in
Follow the water
Blue to the grey, white
Move til it’s cold
The black sky, the blackest trees
The grey road, the grey roof
The whitest words, the widest world
I don’t know who you are
Were you here before?
I don’t know how long we stay
But we return in winter
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3. |
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You are a sparrow, small but flying high
Calling yet another morning home in a pink and orange sky
Guess you never knew if you would make it – this dawn, this light
Is it a relief? You are trembling – are you OK? Are you alright?
Nobody knows if you can believe in something/me/something again
You watch the last brown leaves falling, slowly, today
You were there to see the others change their colour
One by one they gave away
Nobody knows if you can believe in something/me/something again
It’s almost winter and the young tree is waiting
Has been waiting for a while
You never changed so completely before in your life
Nobody knows if you can believe in something/me/something again
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4. |
metaphor
02:02
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I am not more than a metaphor
Not more than a way of saying something else
You know what it is with memories
They change as you change
They tell you about now more than about what happened before
And I can hold my breath
I can hold my breath
For so long
I built a strange little house in my garden
I sit there and look at the insects
The cat keeps me company
He’s white and soft spoken
I like it when it rains
It smells real pretty and the sound of water on the roof
Reminds me of something
And I can hold my breath
I can hold my breath
For so long
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