In the beginning there was tumult.
Someone called for silence,
for diligence
and then for love.

A man stood up and said:
“How can I ever make it clear that I really,
really . . . ”
“What?” the people around him cried.  “What?”
“ . . . do not despise you?”

and that man kissed children falling from the sky,
women flowing past in slow muddy streams,
mothers in their glistening cocoons,

and among the people loneliness erupted,
like thunder in summer.
O summer!

© 2001, Toon Tellegen
From: Gedichten 1977-1999
Publisher: Querido, Amsterdam, 2001
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