Emily Dickinson, 528

 
’t Is net dat Stjerren ús sa knoeit -
It Libben - knoeit ús mear -
Mar Stjerren - is in oare wei -
Ien oare-kant-de-Doar -

It Súdlik Brûkme - fan de Swel -
Dy’t ear’t de Froast him meldt -
In better Bridtegraad ferkiest -
Us soarte Fûgels - bliuwt.

De Klommers om de Boer syn doar -
Om waans ûnwillich Krom
Wy stykje oant Snie meilydsum trúnt -
Op Hûs oan, Fearren - kom

 

’Tis not that Dying hurts us so -
’Tis Living - hurts us more -
But Dying - is a different way -
A kind behind the Door -

The Southern Custom - of the Bird -
That ere the Frosts are due -
Accepts a better Latitude -
We - are the Birds - that stay.

The Shiverers round Farmer’s doors -
For whose reluctant Crumb -
We stipulate - till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home

 

F528 (J335). In eardere ferzje yn Emily Dickinson, Wetter, wurdt jin leard troch toarst. Twaentweintich fersen oerset troch Klaas van der Hoek, Zoeterwoude 1999, s. 23.

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