Vader op een fiets

Sometimes the image resurfaces
My father on a bike
He rides past the terrace where I'm having a drink
And I say nothing

It's a bit windy
The wind creates tears on his cheek
There goes my father
And we've been strangers, for so long

A father and a son
Five meters apart
I see him again for the first time
After at least two, three years

He's riding so slowly
And he passes right by me
My big father
On that too small bike of mine

Why don't I jump on
Why don't I shout: "Hey
Come sit, Dad, have a drink
And how's it going

Away with the hatchet, Dad
We're both so stubborn
You're my father
And I'm just as much of a jerk as you"

It's still possible if I want
He's not gone yet
Why don't I bridge that gap
Between him and me

But I stay seated
It's no longer necessary, it's too late
There goes my father
And I feel nothing, not even hate

I watch him for a long time
He's already on the bridge
I see his sad shoulders
His disappointed back

It's a farewell
I feel like a jerk and small
There goes my father
Who could have been my friend too