Emily Dickinson, 1096

 
Somtiden roetsjt der yn it Gers
In smelle Bysfeint om -
Hast him al moete? Nee, noch net?
Hy lit him iensklaps sjen -

It Gers wurdt klyfd as mei in Kam -
In flekte Skacht merkst op,
Dan slút it foar dyn Fuotten wer
En wykt it fierderop -

In Dridzich Fjildsje hâldt er fan -
In Flier te koel foar Koarn -
Lykwols - as Jonge - Bleatfoets -
Kaam ’k mear as ienris Moarns

Lâns - miende Ik - in Swipe
Unttwynd yn Sinneskyn
Ik bûgde - woe him bergje - mar
Hy kronkele En ferdwûn -

Dy’t de Natuer befolkje,
Ik ken se, en sy my
Ik koesterje foar ’t meastepart
In waarme Hertlikheid

Mar nea trof Ik yn Selskip
En hiel net ien op ien
Dy Bysfeint - of Ik amme kwealk
Waard kjel oant op it Bien.

 

A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides -
You may have met him? Did you not
His notice instant is -

The Grass divides as with a Comb -
A spotted Shaft is seen,
And then it closes at your Feet
And opens further on -

He likes a Boggy Acre -
A Floor too cool for Corn -
But when a Boy and Barefoot
I more than once at Noon

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled And was gone -

Several of Nature’s People
I know, and they know me
I feel for them a transport
Of Cordiality

But never met this Fellow
Attended or alone
Without a tighter Breathing
And Zero at the Bone.

 

F1096 (J986). Ofbyldings: Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA: ‘A narrow Fellow in the Grass’ yn in bryfke fan Dickinson oan har skoansus Susan Gilbert. YouTube: ‘A narrow Fellow in the Grass’ foardroegen troch Caroline Kinsolving, 2015.

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