Robert Frost, Fertroudens mei de nacht

 
Fertroudens mei de nacht

Ik wie ien dy’t fertroud wie mei de nacht.
Ik rûn har yn – hoe reinich ek it waar.
’k Untrûn it stedske ljocht en it gejacht.

Ik strúnde lâns de drôfste bûlevaar.
Ik gie foarby de rattelman op wacht
En joech gjin útlis, seach nei it trotwaar.

Soms kaam der hoar in smoarde jammerklacht
Oer huzen hinne, út in buert fier wei,
Dan dimpte ik myn stap en lústere sacht,

Mar ’t wie gjin Kom werom of Nim my mei;
En ûnierdsk heech sloech ik in toersklok acht
Dy’t, ljochtsjend tsjin it swurk, fan fierren sei

Dat goed noch tsjoed de oere is dy’t slacht.
Ik wie ien dy’t fertroud wie mei de nacht.

 

Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

 

Ut West-Running Brook, 1928

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