Vlinder
De vlinder rust uit op mijn hand
Kwetsbaar in de late zomer
Ik voel de sprieten die haar verkennen
De aarde ademt nu al mistig vocht
Kleumend strompelen we de herfst binnen
Humus en blaren kunnen niet verbergen
Dat het blad is omgeslaan
Mijn botten kreunen in protest
In heimwee naar zon, bijen en geroosterd vlees
Deze bocht zullen we ook weer nemen
En blij zijn er nog te zijn
Als de winter zich straks van haar witte vacht ontdoet
Zijde en rupsen in overvloed
Butterfly (rough translation)
The butterfly rests on my hand
Vulnerable in the late summer
I feel the feelers exploring her
The earth breathing fog and damp
Shivers stumble into autumn
Humus and leaves cannot gloss over
The page that has been turned
My bones moan in protest
Homesick longing for sun, bees, and roasted meat
We’ll take this turn too
Happy to be still around
When winter peels her white fur
Silk worms and caterpillars abound
Petervan Studios 
Lovely words again, Petervan. Dat gedicht bevalt me. Also, I like the Dutch word Vlinder very much.
Thx!
Graag gedaan. It is a pity I hardly know Dutch. Otherwise I could get deeper into your poem. However, you did a great job with the English translation. This poem of yours seems to be a chant of longing for the good weather and also for hope and joy in life. Love these lines:
“The earth breathing fog and damp
Shivers stumble into autumn
Humus and leaves cannot gloss over
The page that has been turned”
Now, as you say, “winter peels her white fur” as spring is coming on little cat feet, as the mimosa flower, yellow as your vlinder, flourishes between January and March. Your poem is beautiful and full of hope. I also have a poem about a vlinder, but mine’s blue. Perhaps you want to have a look: https://momentsbloc.wordpress.com/2016/11/17/afloat/