Wallace Stevens, It gedicht dat it plak fan in berch ynnaam

 
It gedicht dat it plak fan in berch ynnaam

Dêr wie it, wurd foar wurd,
It gedicht dat it plak fan in berch ynnaam.

Hy azeme der de soerstof fan yn,
Sels doe’t it boek omkeard yn it stof op syn tafel lei.

It brocht him tebinnen hoe’t er ferlet hân hie
Fan in plak syn eigen kant út om nei ta te gean,

Hoe’t er de pynbeammen oars skikt,
De rotsen ferset en syn paad mids wolken keazen hie,

Foar it útsjoch dat goed wêze soe,
Wer’t er kompleet wêze soe yn in ûnferklearre kompletearjen:

Krekt dy rots wêr’t syn ûnkrektichheden lang om let
It sicht ûntdekke soenen dat se hoeden beneiere hienen,

Wêr’t er him deljaan koe en, fan boppen digerjend nei de see,
Syn ienige en ienlike thús werkenne.

 

The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain

There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction,

How he had recomposed the pines,
Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,

For the outlook that would be right,
Where he would be complete in an unexplained completion:

The exact rock where his inexactnesses
Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged,

Where he could lie and, gazing down at the sea,
Recognize his unique and solitary home.

 

Ut The Rock, 1954

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