Wallace Stevens, Trettjin manieren om nei in klyster te sjen

 
Trettjin manieren om nei in klyster te sjen

        I
It iennichste ding dat beweegde
Mids tweintich besnijde bergen
Wie it each fan de klyster.

        II
Ik wie fan trijerlei geast,
As in beam
Mei trije klysters deryn.

        III
De klyster wjirrele yn de hjerstwinen.
Hy wie in partikel fan de pantomime.

        IV
In man en in frou
Binne ien.
In man en in frou en in klyster
Binne ien.

        V
Ik wit net wat ik leaver haw,
De skientme fan toansettings
Of de skientme fan taspilings,
De klyster as er floitet
Of krekt dêrnei.

        VI
Iispegels follen it brede finster
Mei barbaarsk glês.
It skaad fan de klyster
Skeat der hin’ en wer lâns.
De stimming
Bemurk yn it skaad
In net te ûntsiferjen oarsaak.

        VII
O smelle manlju fan Haddam,
Wêrom jin gouden fûgels ynbyldzje?
Sjogge jimme net de klyster
Om de fuotten rinnen
Fan de froulju om jimme hinne?

        VIII
Ik haw weet fan eale aksinten
En kleare, ûnûntkombere ritmes,
Mar ik wit ek
Dat de klyster belutsen is
Yn wat ik wit.

        IX
Doe’t de klyster út it sicht fleach,
Joech er de râne oan
Fan ien fan hiel wat sirkels.

        X
Sels de sûteneuses fan wollûd
Soenen it útkrite, skel,
By it sjen fan klysters
Fleanend yn in grien ljocht.

        XI
Hy ried oer Connecticut
Yn in glêzen koets.
Eangst trochflime him
Dy kears dat er it skaad
Fan syn rydtúch oanseach
Foar klysters.

        XII
De rivier beweecht.
De klyster sil wol fleane.

        XIII
It wie de hiele middei jûn.
It snijde
En it soe noch snije.
De klyster siet
Yn de sedertûken.

 

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

        I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

        II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

        III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

        IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

        V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

        VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

        VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

        VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

        IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

        X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

        XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

        XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

        XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

 

Ut Harmonium, 1923. Ofbylding: Plakette yn it trotwaar fan East 41st Street tusken Fifth Avenue and Park Avenue, New York. Untwerp Gregg LeFevre, 1998.

Stevens oer Haddam, in stedsje yn Connecticut, yn in brief út 1953: ‘I just liked the name. It is an old whaling town, I believe. In any case, it has a completely Yankee sound.’

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