Cruijff has passed away
24 maart 2016
Cruyff has passed away.
This cannot be.
He’s part of me.
As I revisit the videos
I feel his frail strength
well up in my feet.
The acceleration with the ball
rein it in, just so
then the quicksilver
of the rush
the lithe jump
across the razor of a shrank.
The masterful free breaking
the wave of shirt and hair
the timeless white of his shorts
the pass, the shot
the art of the curve
outside instep.
When such a trick succeeds
on a field, a square
against a garage door
my heart breaks out in sweat
it glows within my bones.
Cruyff has passed away.
This cannot be.
He’s part of me.
Translation: Trevor Scarse
Cruijff is dea
24 maart 2016
Cruijff is dea.
Dat kin net.
Hy sit yn myn lea.
As ik de bylden weromsjoch
fiel ik syn frêle macht
kommen yn myn skonken.
De fersnelling mei de bal
ynhâlde, even
dan it kwiksulver
fan de rush
de linige sprong
oer it skearmes fan in poat.
It magistrale frijbrekken
mei de weach troch shirt en hier
it tiidleas wyt fan syn broekje
de pass, it skot
de keunst fan de kurve
mei bûtenkant wreef.
Slagget sa’n baltsje
op in fjildsje, pleintsje
tsjin in garaazjedoar
dan swit it yn myn hert
gloeit it troch de bonken.
Cruijff is dea.
Dat kin net.
Hy sit yn myn lea.
© Syds Wiersma
Lân sunder ljurk, (Hispel 2019)