De imazjinêre iisberch
De iisberch wie ús leaver as it skip,
al hold er ek de ein yn fan de reis.
Al stie er ek stokstiif as wolkich stien
en wie de hiele see bewegend moarmer.
De iisberch wie ús leaver as it skip;
dit amjend snieflak wie ús wol sa leaf,
al leinen ek de seilen fan it skip op see
lykas de snie ûnoplost op it wetter leit.
Besefsto, plechtich, driuwend fjild,
dat der in iisberch by dy rêst dy’t as er wekker is
faaks weitsje sil op dyn besnijde wyldernis?
Dy sêne – in matroas soe der syn sicht foar jaan.
Gjinien hat each foar ’t skip. De iisberch stiicht
en sinkt dan wer; syn siertuorkes fan glês
ferbetterje wat yn de loft ûntbrekt.
Dy sêne – wa’t hjir op ’e planken komt,
is ûnkeunstsinnich redenryk. It doek
is licht genôch en gean omheech oan koarden
sa fyn as ile twirren snie mar meitsje.
De brille fan dy spitsen, wyt,
daget de sinne út. De iisberch, withoeswier,
doart op in wif toaniel te stean en digert fier.
Fan binnenút slipet de iisberch syn fasetten.
As edelstiente út in grêf
behâldt er foar altyd himsels en toait
inkeld himsels, faaks ek de fjilden snie
dy’t lizzend op de see ús sa ferrasse.
Farwol, sizze wy, farwol, it skip rekket út koers
dêr’t weagen oergean yn inoarrens weagen
en wolken útrinne yn waarmer loft.
Iisbergen strike mei de siel
(selsmakke, beide, bûten waarnimming foltein)
en sjoch se sa: spierd, kein, ûndielber rjocht oerein.
The Imaginary Iceberg
We’d rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.
We’d rather have the iceberg than the ship;
we’d rather own this breathing plain of snow
though the ship’s sails were laid upon the sea
as the snow lies undissolved upon the water.
O solemn, floating field,
are you aware an iceberg takes repose
with you, and when it wakes may pasture on your snows?
This is a scene a sailor’d give his eyes for.
The ship’s ignored. The iceberg rises
and sinks again; its glassy pinnacles
correct elliptics in the sky.
This is a scene where he who treads the boards
is artlessly rhetorical. The curtain
is light enough to rise on finest ropes
that airy twists of snow provide.
The wits of these white peaks
spar with the sun. Its weight the iceberg dares
upon a shifting stage and stands and stares.
The iceberg cuts its facets from within.
Like jewelry from a grave
it saves itself perpetually and adorns
only itself, perhaps the snows
which so surprise us lying on the sea.
Good-bye, we say, good-bye, the ship steers off
where waves give in to one another’s waves
and clouds run in a warmer sky.
Icebergs behoove the soul
(both being self-made from elements least visible)
to see them so: fleshed, fair, erected indivisible.
Ut North & South, 1946
