Emily Dickinson, 581

 
Ik bea - Fansels -
En lústere God?
Neat mear as hie in Fûgel hurd
Op Lucht stampt - mei har poat -
En “Jou My” raasd -
’t Bestean - myn Grûn -
Wie inkeld - om Josels - my jûn -
Barmhertiger hie west
As blij en neatich, dôf en blier
Ik yn ’t Atoomgrêf litten wie -
Net dit Fertriet dat kwetst.

 

Of Course - I prayed -
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird - had stamped her foot -
And cried “Give Me” -
My Reason - Life -
I had not had - but for Yourself -
’Twere better Charity
To leave me in the Atom’s Tomb -
Merry, and nought, and gay, and numb -
Than this smart Misery.

 

F581 (J376). Ofbylding: Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA.

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