Winds blow in from the Zuider Zee
Showering leaves from the golden tree,
As we sat on the stoep of your canal-side house
(Around the corner from the Rembrandthuis),
Sipping our koffie as bikes pedalled past,
Warming our hands on the steaming glass.
The sweet, familiar smell of weed
Wafted along on the autumn breeze
Past towering façades with stepping gables,
Taking our time at coffee shop tables,
Exploring this city of carnal pleasures,
Winding canals & artists’ treasures.
Those redolent visions live just in my head,
The waterways speak to me instead
Of furtive infidelity:
These streets hold no memories of you & me.
The windmills and bridges, the cobblestone view
Now spoiled by cuckolded thoughts of you.
Is she sitting upon your stoep
Sipping her koffie? Am I the dupe?
What small secrets do you share
In the gabled house with the winding stair
Beneath the tree with the golden leaves
Blown by winds from the Zuider Zee?