Since nobody was there anyway,
and since it is not blocked off,
it’s time for a walk once again
along the brink of the beach, where all
of a sudden the woods held back,
or have withdrawn by degrees.Thinking this is someone who does
not know that he is in this text
and will never get out again,
however he tinkers with sentences
and shifts the meanings about.
Better that than the other way round,
when cold strikes without warning;
and better never than late.
Here I go thinking this again.
In all my absence here
there lurks a triumph which
will never rest on its laurels.
From Springvossen (Amsterdam: De Bezige Bij, 2000). By arrangement with the estate of Hans Faverey.
