Zij is mooi naakt in het winter licht - "She is beautiful naked in the winter air"

Every fridge in the world has been defiled at least once with magnetic poetry, and since this Christmas my dear Gent-le fridge is no longer an exception. The twist (at least for me) is the language of said poetry – all Dutch, all the time.

Whilst waiting for my morning coffee to brew I take a little time out to put together the words I can (ie, the words I know) to make as logical sentences as I can. It’s a surprisingly stupid way to learn a language, in fact it is really just a Where’s Wally style hunt for the correct article (Dutch has two – ‘de’ and ‘het’  or properly conjugated verb, however two weeks later the novelty still hasn’t worn off.

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