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Het dorpsstation
Ja,
duifkruid en kruidje-roer-me-niet bloeiden rijkelijk
maar de blauwe exprestrein stond nu al jarenlang stil
’t Was in het dorpje Naaien brengt Vrede

De dorpshuizen trilden van mededogen
en hun serres blaatten droefgeestig, ‘Het is mij toch wat’
Roodborstjes zagen verdrietig toe, ’t duifkruid verwelkte
O, de exprestrein stond doodstil, moest vergaan

Ja,
dat kwam zó, de dorpsgek gaf zich voor stationschef uit,
morste koffie op paperassen, vervalste namen van stations,
beklopte hardhandig de wagons (contrabande! verstekelingen!)

O verval
viel snel in; de bestemmingen bladderden af; deskundigen
riepen de exprestrein tot boemel uit; de dorpsgek sleepte
verf aan en vuur; kleinkunst bloeide toen…

Ja,
wolken, roodborstjes, kruidje-roer-me-niet, duifkruid,
dat de trein ten langen leste, hakkelend, verdersnelde
dat was te danken aan jullie en aan jullie alleen
The Village Station
Aye,
small scabious and touch-me-not lavishly blossomed
but the blue express train had been standing still for years
It was in the village of Shagging brings Tranquillity

The village houses trembled with compassion
and their sun lounges dolefully bleated ‘What a pity’
Robins watched in sorrow, the small scabious wilted
Oh, the express train stood quite still, just had to perish

Aye,
that’s how, the village idiot played the stationmaster,
spilt coffee on papers, forged names of stations,
rapped harshly on the carriages (contraband! stowaways!)

Oh decay
soon set in; the destinations flaked off; experts
declared the express a slow train; the village idiot dragged in
paint and fire; variety arts were thriving …

Aye,
clouds, robins, touch-me-nots, small scabious,
that at the bitter end the train, stumbling, hurried on
was thanks to all of you and you alone