20 jaar geleden vertrok hij -
met de helft van de inboedel

die dag ben ik gestopt met roken
dat vier ik!

tous les matins du monde sont sans retour

a day of silence

can be a pilgrimage in itself.

a day of silence

can help you listen

to the soul play

its marvellous lute and drum.

is not most talking

a crazed defence of a crumbling fort?

returning again and again
like endless waves,
my heart is stolen
by memories of a lady
who carries it away....

na de tcheud retraite - tibinst huy


hoe verblind was ik...

uiteindelijk ontmoeten geliefden elkaar niet 'ergens',

ze zijn altijd al in elkaar aanwezig......

is it true my love
has finally come to see me,
or am i dreaming?
am i sane? or is she
an invention of my needing?

the world beyond clouds
is not foreign to my soul -
it won't leave you now

we speak of separation -
but that's only illusion.

by morning, the leaves
have fallen into silence,
the wind has finally parted,
like lovers after a night,
all talked out, now broken-hearted.

la valeur réelle de l'art est
en fonction de son pouvoir
de révélation libératrice



kunst is maar waardevol als zij bevrijdend kan werken

there is a difference between the pains
that inevitably come in life,
and the suffering
we create around the pain

one day, I will awaken at last in heaven
and living or dead, you
 
will be there to hold both of my hands
that will tremble no longer as we sit
 
face to face and see to the bottom
of each others eyes, each taking a turn
 
first me and then you, in speaking aloud all
of the small dark things we held back
 
from each other, back when the wind
might still have cooled these skins, back
 
when we could still bleed, so easy--
so easy, back before we knew for sure
 
that bleeding for each other
first you and then me,
 
was the only chance we ever had,
one day I will awaken at last in heaven
 
and living or dead, you
will be there.