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Updated: May 24, 2025
'Daor stao'k op minen staf En weet niet wat ik zeggen mag, Nou hek me weer bedach En weet ik wat ik zeggen mag Hier sturt ons Gut yan Vente als brugom En Mientje Elschot as de brud, Ende' noget uwder ut Margen vrog on tien ur Op en tonne bier tiene twalevenne, Op en anker win, vif, zesse En en wanne vol rozimen.
With this, a pang and a terrible shudder went through me; a writhing as of death convulsed me; and I became once again conscious of a more limited, even a bodily and earthly life. "Our life is no dream; but it ought to become one, and perhaps will." "And on the ground, which is my modres gate, I knocke with my staf; erlich and late, And say to hire, Leve mother, let me in."
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