Holland

Heaven high vaulted and grey. below, the mighty lowland with marshy pools; green-houses and steeples, trees and mills, squared into patches by the dikes, silver-grey. this is my people, my country; here is the land where I shall sing. let me gaze into pools an evening, then may I like a cloud go away.  …

Landscape

In the pastures the peaceable beasts are grazing; the herons sail over glittering lakes, the bitterns stand by pools of dark water; and out in the meadows the horses are running with rippling tails over rippling grass. From Collected Poems¬†(Verzamelde gedichten, 1974) By H. Marsman Translated by Tanis Guest First published in The Low Countries,…

Thinking of Holland

Thinking of Holland I see broad rivers languidly winding through endless fen, lines of incredibly tenuous poplars like giant plumes on the polder’s rim; and sunk in tremendous open expanses, the farmsteads scattered across the plain: coppices, hamlets, squat towers and churches and elms composing a rich domain. Low leans the sky and slowly the…