Memory of Holland

Thinking of Holland

I picture broad rivers

meandering through

unending lowland:

rows of incredibly

lanky poplars, huge

plumes that linger

at the edge of the world;

in the astounding

distance small-holdings

that recede into space

throughout the country;

clumps of trees, town-lands,

stumpy towers, churches

and elms that contribute

to the grand design;

a low sky, and the sun

smothering slowly in mists, pearl-gray,

mother-of-pearl;

and in every county

the water 's warning

of more catastrophes

heard and heeded.

Translated by Irish poet Michael Longley (* Belfast, 1939)