{"id":17165,"date":"2023-04-02T23:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-04-02T21:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=17165"},"modified":"2025-03-27T12:29:16","modified_gmt":"2025-03-27T11:29:16","slug":"anne-sexton-fjirde-psalm","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=17165","title":{"rendered":"Anne Sexton, Fjirde psalm<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\nFjirde psalm<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

Want ik bin in wees mei twa deademaskers op de skoarstienmantel en kaam \u00fat it gr\u00eaf fan myn mem har b\u00fak wei yn it beweech fan Boston.<\/p>\n

Want der seagen mar twa finsters \u00fat op \u2019e st\u00ead en de gebouwen ieten my op.<\/p>\n

Want ik wie ynbakere yn fetwol fan myn heit syn bedriuw en koe my net bewege of de tiid freegje.<\/p>\n

Want Anne en Christopher waarden berne yn myn holle doe\u2019t ik g\u00fblde by it gr\u00eaf fan de roazen, de fjouwerennjoggentich roazige weeshuzen yn myn sliepkeamer.<\/p>\n

Want Christopher, myn ynbylde broer, myn twilling, hold syn babypimel f\u00east as in foarntsje.<\/p>\n

Want ik waard in wy<\/em> en dat ynbylde wy<\/em> waard tagedien selskip as de grutte ballonnen harren net oer \u00fas b\u00fbgden.<\/p>\n

Want ik koe net l\u00eaze of prate en yn de lange nachten koe ik net de moanne \u00fatsette of de autoljochten l\u00e2ns it plafond telle.<\/p>\n

Want ik lei d\u00ear sa bleek as moal en dronk moannesop \u00fat in rubberen dop.<\/p>\n

Want ik pisse yn \u2019e broek en Christopher die it klokl\u00eazen, de klok tikke as in krikel yn july en beweegde swijend syn leppels.<\/p>\n

Want ik poepte en Christopher glimke en sei, lit de lucht swiet w\u00eaze fan dyn dong.<\/p>\n

Want ik l\u00fastere nei Christopher, mar net as de ballon kaam om myn ferb\u00e2n te ferskjinjen.<\/p>\n

Want myn kr\u00fas jokke en hannen smarden der oalje op.<\/p>\n

Want ik lei dea-allinne. Christopher lei n\u00east my. Hy libbe.<\/p>\n

Want ik lei as papieren roazen sa stram en Christopher pakte in tinnen waskbekken en wosk my.<\/p>\n

Want ik prate net mar de g\u00fbchelder liet my tr\u00faks mei bloed sjen.<\/p>\n

Want ik hearde oars net as de g\u00fbchelder dy\u2019t n\u00east my lei en as in radio spile.<\/p>\n

Want ik skriemde doe en myn doaske wiggele mankelyk.<\/p>\n

Want ik wie yn in beheining fan wol en ferve planken. W\u00ear binne wy Christopher? It kasjot, sei hy.<\/p>\n

Want de keamer sels wie in doaze. Fjouwer dikke muorren fan roazen. In plafond dat Christopher leech en bedriigjend f\u00fbn.<\/p>\n

Want ik glimke en der wie net ien om it te sjen. Christopher sliepte. Hy makke in seel\u00fbd.<\/p>\n

Want ik liet myn fingers wiggelje mar se bleaunen net te plak. Ik krige se net te plak. Se \u00fbntsnapten oan myn m\u00fble.<\/p>\n

Want ik poarke mysels \u00fat \u2019e sliep, \u00fat de griene keamer. De sliep fan de wanhopigen dy\u2019t tebek it tsjuster yn reizgje.<\/p>\n

Want berte wie in sykte en Christopher en ik betochten de remeedzje.<\/p>\n

Want wy slokke g\u00fbchelderij op en sette Anne op \u2019e wr\u00e2ld.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Fourth Psalm<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

For I am an orphan with two death masks on the mantel and came from the grave of my mama\u2019s belly into the commerce of Boston.<\/p>\n

For there were only two windows on the city and the buildings ate me.<\/p>\n

For I was swaddled in grease wool from my father\u2019s company and could not move or ask the time.<\/p>\n

For Anne and Christopher were born in my head as I howled at the grave of the roses, the ninety-four rose cr\u00e8ches of my bedroom.<\/p>\n

For Christopher, my imaginary brother, my twin holding his baby cock like a minnow.<\/p>\n

For I became a we<\/em> and this imaginary we<\/em> became a kind company when the big balloons did not bend over us.<\/p>\n

For I could not read or speak and on the long nights I could not turn the moon off or count the lights of cars across the ceiling.<\/p>\n

For I lay as pale as flour and drank moon juice from a rubber tip.<\/p>\n

For I wet my pants and Christopher told the clock and it ticked like a July cricket and silently moved its spoons.<\/p>\n

For I shat and Christopher smiled and said let the air be sweet with your soil.<\/p>\n

For I listened to Christopher unless the balloon came and changed my bandage.<\/p>\n

For my crotch itched and hands oiled it.<\/p>\n

For I lay as single as death. Christopher lay beside me. He was living.<\/p>\n

For I lay as stiff as paper roses and Christopher took a tin basin and bathed me.<\/p>\n

For I spoke not but the magician played me tricks of the blood.<\/p>\n

For I heard not but for the magician lying beside me playing like a radio.<\/p>\n

For I cried then and my little box wiggled with melancholy.<\/p>\n

For I was in a boundary of wool and painted boards. Where are we Christopher? Jail, he said.<\/p>\n

For the room itself was a box. Four thick walls of roses. A ceiling Christopher found low and menacing.<\/p>\n

For I smiled and there was no one to notice. Christopher was asleep. He was making a sea sound.<\/p>\n

For I wiggled my fingers but they would not stay. I could not put them in place. They broke out of my mouth.<\/p>\n

For I was prodding myself out of my sleep, out of the green room. The sleep of the desperate who travel backwards into darkness.<\/p>\n

For birth was a disease and Christopher and I invented the cure.<\/p>\n

For we swallow magic and we deliver Anne.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

O Ye Tongues<\/em> [IV<\/small>], \u00fat The Death Notebooks<\/em>, 1974<\/p>\n

Boston<\/b> \u2013 Anne Sexton waard berne as Anne Gray Harvey op 9 novimber 1928 yn Newton, Massachusetts, 12 kilometer westlik fan Boston.
\ngrease wool from my father\u2019s company<\/b> \u2013 Sexton har heit, Ralph Churchill Harvey (1900\u20131959), hie in hannelsfirma yn wol.<\/small><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Fjirde psalm Want ik bin in wees mei twa deademaskers op de skoarstienmantel en kaam \u00fat it gr\u00eaf fan myn mem har b\u00fak wei yn it beweech fan Boston. Want der seagen mar twa finsters \u00fat op \u2019e st\u00ead … Fierder l\u00eaze →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1177],"tags":[1176,1228],"class_list":["post-17165","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-anne-sexton","tag-anne-sexton","tag-ralph-churchill-harvey"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17165"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17165"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17165\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18872,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17165\/revisions\/18872"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17165"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17165"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17165"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}