Every old man I see
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.

That man I saw in Gardiner Street
Stumble on the kerb was one,
He stared at me half-eyed,
I might have been his son.

And I remember the musician
Faltering over his fiddle
In Bayswater, London,
He too set me the riddle.

Every old man I see
In October-coloured weather
Seems to say to me
‘I was once your father.’

Patrick Kavanagh (1904–1967)

Het gedicht is afkomstig uit ‘Collected Poems’, bewerkt door Antoinette Quinn (Allen Lane, 2004).
Met vriendelijke toestemming van de zaakwaarnemers van the Estate of the late Katherine B. Kavanagh, via Jonathan Williams Literary Agency.

(Afbeelding: Sonsbeekpark, Arnhem, okt. 2021)