Wallace Stevens, In kalm gewoan bestean

 
In kalm gewoan bestean

Doe’t er siet en doe’t er neitocht, wie syn plak
Net yn wat er ek mar gearstalde, sa broazel,
Sa ûnderbeljochte, sa oerskade en niksich,

As bygelyks in wrâld wêryn’t er, snie lyk,
In ynwenner waard dy’t gehoarsum wie
Oan hoaske noasjes fan de kant fan de kjeld.

It wie hjir. Dit wie de setting en it seizoen.
Hjir yn syn hûs en yn syn keamer,
Yn syn stoel, waard de bedaardste tins skerp

En waard it âldste en waarmste hert befike
Troch hoaske noasjes fan de kant fan de nacht –
Beide let en allinne, boppe krikelakkoarden

Wêryn’t elk de eigenheid fan syn lûd bebabbele.
Der wie gjin fuery yn transendinte foarmen.
Mar syn kears hjirsa lôge mei keunstgrepen op.

 

A Quiet Normal Life

His place, as he sat and as he thought, was not
In anything that he constructed, so frail,
So barely lit, so shadowed over and naught,

As, for example, a world in which, like snow,
He became an inhabitant, obedient
To gallant notions on the part of cold.

It was here. This was the setting and the time
Of year. Here in his house and in his room,
In his chair, the most tranquil thought grew peaked

And the oldest and the warmest heart was cut
By gallant notions on the part of night –
Both late and alone, above the crickets’ chords,

Babbling, each one, the uniqueness of its sound.
There was no fury in transcendent forms.
But his actual candle blazed with artifice.

 

Ut The Rock, 1954

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