THAT’S NOT THE WAY IT WENT (poem) - Jan Glas - Netherlands

ZO IS T NAIT GOAN

Tot elks verboazen bleef de dikke buurvraauw
toun ze ainmoal sturven was
gewoon deurproaten:

laange citoaten oet olde Polygoonjournaals;
mainst versloagen over keunelke familie
en de vreugdevolle maaidoagen van 1945.

Eerst wer der docht, t liek is nog waarm,
as t verstieft kramt mond heur wel stom.
Mor zo is t nait goan.

Ze begon te zingen: kienderverskes
dij de mainsten allaank vergeten waren,
pareltjes van onschuld en hoop.

Verzichteg begon der ain mit te zingen.
En nog ain, en weer ain. Tot elk zong.
Der wer n trekharmonikoa regeld.

THAT’S NOT THE WAY IT WENT

To everyone’s surprise the fat neighbour
simply kept on talking
once she had passed away:

long quotes from old cinema newsreels;
mostly reports about the royal family
and the joyful days of May 1945.

First they thought the body is still warm,
once it has grown stiff her mouth will clench up
and go mute. But that’s not the way it went.

She started singing: nursery rhymes
long forgotten by most,
little pearls of innocence and hope.

Hesitantly someone joined in. And then another,
and another one. Until everyone was singing.
They sent for an accordion.