Emily Dickinson, 715

 
De Sinne sakke - sakke mar -
Dochs merkbiet Ik gjin Kleur
Fan Achtermiddei oer it Doarp -
’t Wie Noen om Hûs en Hear -

De Skimer foel mar - foel mar yn -
Dochs kaam der op it Gers
Gjin Dau - wol op myn Foarholle -
It Swurf lâns Wang en Noas -

Myn Fuotten slûgen - slûgen - mar
Myn fingers wienen wach -
Wêrom bemurk Ik - fan Mysels -
Dan amper wat Gerucht?

Hoe goed Ik earder ’t Ljocht ek koe -
Ik kin it no net sjen -
’t Is Deagean - wat Ik doch - lykwols
Foar witten bin ’k net bang -

 

The Sun kept setting - setting - still
No Hue of Afternoon -
Opon the Village I perceived -
From House to House ’twas Noon -

The Dusk kept dropping - dropping - still
No Dew opon the Grass -
But only on my Forehead stopped -
And wandered in my Face -

My Feet kept drowsing - drowsing - still
My fingers were awake -
Yet why so little sound - Myself
Unto my seeming - make?

How well I knew the Light before -
I could not see it now -
’Tis Dying - I am doing - but
I’m not afraid to know -

 

F715 (J692). Ofbyldings: Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA.

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