Poem by the Dutch poet C.O. Jellema

‘WHEN DAISIES PIED AND VIOLETS BLUE...’

A slender bird that rarely lets itself

be seen. Just recently it flew between this

house and that next door out of my

chestnut tree into next-door’s tall ash and called

cuckoo. And thus I recognised it.

What he sought there? not roaming over

scattered fields, but all at once

close by. A mocking bird. I would

have liked to call to someone: quick,

a cuckoo, cheated though, my dog

because of it erratically began

to bark away.

                        So with unasked-for

suddenness between two thoughts,

you’re squatting down to weed a flowerbed,

cuckoo rings out oh you what’s new how come

still here, not there already, off, a cry

from inside-out. You straighten up

with trails of catchweed on your hands,

a statue of stock-stillness for a moment

in all of that indifference

of growing, flowering, sunshine – while the dog,

who would be where you were, sleeps

blissfully, outstretched on the warm grass.