Emily Dickinson, 1297

 
Ien Inkeld Klaverplankje
Wie alles dat in Bij -
In Bij dy’t Ik persoanlik koe -
Noch hie en sink net wei

Betusken Swurk fier boppe
En Swurk fier ûnder him -
De Golfslach fan de Ierdomtrek
Swong him foarby de kym -

It Plankje - dat loen swypke
En nearne noed foar stie -
Fong ûnferhoeds sa’n Pûster Wyn
Dat Hommel net mear wie -

Dit skrikkelike foarfal
Dat plakfûn yn it Gers
Untlokke dêr net mear oan as
In waarjend “Ach eilaas” -

 

A Single Clover Plank
Was all that saved a Bee
A Bee I personally knew
From sinking in the sky -

Twixt Firmament above
And Firmament below
The Billows of Circumference
Were sweeping him away -

The idly swaying Plank
Responsible to nought
A sudden Freight of Wind assumed
And Bumble Bee was not -

This harrowing event
Transpiring in the Grass
Did not so much as wring from him
A wandering “Alas” -

 

F1297 (J1343)

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