{"id":11676,"date":"2018-08-21T23:00:02","date_gmt":"2018-08-21T21:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=11676"},"modified":"2019-10-27T23:38:24","modified_gmt":"2019-10-27T22:38:24","slug":"elizabeth-bishop-by-de-fiskloadsen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=11676","title":{"rendered":"Elizabeth Bishop, By de fiskloadsen<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\nBy de fiskloadsen<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

Hoewol\u2019t it in k\u00e2lde j\u00fbn is,
\nsit der by ien fan de fiskloadsen
\nin \u00e2ldman te netteboetsjen.
\nSyn net is yn de skimer hast \u00fbnsichtber,
\nin donker pearsbr\u00fan,
\nen syn priem fersliten en gl\u00eadwreaun.
\nDe loft r\u00fbkt sa sterk nei kabbeljau
\ndat jins noas der fan rint en jins eagen trienje.
\nDe fiif fiskloadsen hawwe steile puntdakken,
\nsmelle battings mei dwerslatten rinne omheech
\nnei opslachromten achter de gevels
\nsadat der op- en delkroade wurde kin.
\nAlles is sulver: it swiere oerflak fan de see,
\ndy\u2019t stadich dinet as yn best\u00e2n om oer te streamen,
\nis opaak, mar it sulver fan de banken,
\nkreeftefallen en m\u00easten, ferspraat
\noer de r\u00fbge, skerpe rotsen,
\nis fan in klearblyklike trochskinendheid
\nkrekt as de \u00e2lde geboutsjes mei smaragdgrien moas
\ndat op de nei it l\u00e2n kearde muorren groeit.
\nDe m\u00e2nske fisktobben binne alhiel fuorre
\nmei lagen prachtige hjerringskobben
\nen de kroaden binne allyksa beplastere
\nmei rjemmige maljenkolders yn reinb\u00f4chkleuren,
\nd\u00ear\u2019t reinb\u00f4chkleurige michjes op krioele.
\nOp it hellinkje achter de huzen
\nstiet tusken de tinne, ljochte t\u00fbfkes gers
\nin \u00e2lde houten ierdwine, barsten,
\nmei twa lange, feal wurden h\u00e2nspeaken
\nen wat mankelike flekken, as opdroege bloed,
\nd\u00ear w\u00ear\u2019t it izerwurk rustke hat.
\nDe \u00e2ldman nimt in Lucky Strike oan.
\nHy wie in freon fan \u00fas pake.
\nWy prate oer it \u00f4fnommen ynwennertal
\nen oer kabbeljau en hjerring, wylst hy wachtet
\nop it binnenfarren fan in hjerringboat.
\nDer sitte glitterkes op syn fest en op syn tomme.
\nMei dat swarte, \u00e2lde knyft, d\u00ear\u2019t it limmet
\nhast fan weisliten is, hat er fan \u00fbntelbere fisken
\nde skobben, de wichtichste skientme, \u00f4fskrabbe.<\/p>\n

Under by de wetterkant, op it plak
\nd\u00ear\u2019t se de boaten op it droege l\u00fbke,
\nbinne l\u00e2ns it lange tal\u00fad dat it wetter yn rint
\ntinne sulveren beamstammen dwers
\noer de grize stiennen lein, leger en leger
\nmei goed ien oant oardel meter tuskenromte.<\/p>\n

K\u00e2ld tsjuster djip en folslein helder,
\nfoar gjin stjerling te daaien elemint,
\nal foar fisk en seeh\u00fbnen… Benammen
\nien seeh\u00fbn haw ik hjir j\u00fbn nei j\u00fbn sjoen.
\nHy wie nijsgjirrich nei my. Hy hie niget oan muzyk;
\nkrekt as ik leaude er yn folsleine \u00fbnderdompeling,
\ndus plichte ik foar him baptistegesangen te sjongen.
\nEk song ik \u2018In sterke f\u00easting is \u00fas God\u2019.
\nHy rjochte him op yn it wetter en meunstere my
\nstoefop, wylst er syn kop wat ferweegde.
\nDan ferdw\u00fbn er om ynienen sawat op itselde plak
\nwer op te d\u00fbken, mei in soarte fan skouderopheljen
\nas die er it tsjin better witten yn.
\nK\u00e2ld tsjuster djip en folslein helder,
\nit heldere grize izige wetter… Jinsen, achter \u00fas,
\nbegjinne de foarname hege spjirren.
\nBlauwich, oerienkomstich harren skaden,
\nsteane in miljoen krystbeammen
\nop krysttiid te wachtsjen. It wetter liket te hingjen
\nboppe de r\u00fbnsliten, grize en blaugrize stiennen.
\nIk haw it kear op kear sjoen, deselde see, deselde,
\nlicht en \u00fbnferskillich skommeljend boppe de stiennen,
\nizich frij boppe de stiennen,
\nboppe de stiennen en dan de wr\u00e2ld.
\nSoest dyn h\u00e2n deryn stekke,
\ndan soe de pols dy daalk sear dwaan,
\ndyn bonken soenen pynlik wurde en soest dyn h\u00e2n br\u00e2ne
\nas wie it wetter in omsetting fan fjoer
\ndat op stiennen tart en br\u00e2nt mei in donkergrize flam.
\nSoest it priuwe, dan soe it earst bitter smeitsje,
\ndan s\u00e2ltich en dan wis dyn tonge br\u00e2ne.
\nIt is as hoe\u2019t wy \u00fas kennis foarstelle:
\ntsjuster, s\u00e2lt, helder, yn beweging, baarlike frij,
\n\u00fat de k\u00e2lde hurde m\u00fble fan de wr\u00e2ld
\nopdjippe, foar altyd oan de rotsige boarsten
\n\u00fbntlutsen, floeiend en opdjippe, en mei\u2019t
\n\u00fas kennis histoarysk is, floeiend en ferflein.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At the Fishhouses<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

Although it is a cold evening,
\ndown by one of the fishhouses
\nan old man sits netting,
\nhis net, in the gloaming almost invisible,
\na dark purple-brown,
\nand his shuttle worn and polished.
\nThe air smells so strong of codfish
\nit makes one\u2019s nose run and one\u2019s eyes water.
\nThe five fishhouses have steeply peaked roofs
\nand narrow, cleated gangplanks slant up
\nto storerooms in the gables
\nfor the wheelbarrows to be pushed up and down on.
\nAll is silver: the heavy surface of the sea,
\nswelling slowly as if considering spilling over,
\nis opaque, but the silver of the benches,
\nthe lobster pots, and masts, scattered
\namong the wild jagged rocks,
\nis of an apparent translucence
\nlike the small old buildings with an emerald moss
\ngrowing on their shoreward walls.
\nThe big fish tubs are completely lined
\nwith layers of beautiful herring scales
\nand the wheelbarrows are similarly plastered
\nwith creamy iridescent coats of mail,
\nwith small iridescent flies crawling on them.
\nUp on the little slope behind the houses,
\nset in the sparse bright sprinkle of grass,
\nis an ancient wooden capstan,
\ncracked, with two long bleached handles
\nand some melancholy stains, like dried blood,
\nwhere the ironwork has rusted.
\nThe old man accepts a Lucky Strike.
\nHe was a friend of my grandfather.
\nWe talk of the decline in the population
\nand of codfish and herring
\nwhile he waits for a herring boat to come in.
\nThere are sequins on his vest and on his thumb.
\nHe has scraped the scales, the principal beauty,
\nfrom unnumbered fish with that black old knife,
\nthe blade of which is almost worn away.<\/p>\n

Down at the water\u2019s edge, at the place
\nwhere they haul up the boats, up the long ramp
\ndescending into the water, thin silver
\ntree trunks are laid horizontally
\nacross the gray stones, down and down
\nat intervals of four or five feet.<\/p>\n

Cold dark deep and absolutely clear,
\nelement bearable to no mortal,
\nto fish and to seals . . . One seal particularly
\nI have seen here evening after evening.
\nHe was curious about me. He was interested in music;
\nlike me a believer in total immersion,
\nso I used to sing him Baptist hymns.
\nI also sang \u201cA Mighty Fortress Is Our God.\u201d
\nHe stood up in the water and regarded me
\nsteadily, moving his head a little.
\nThen he would disappear, then suddenly emerge
\nalmost in the same spot, with a sort of shrug
\nas if it were against his better judgment.
\nCold dark deep and absolutely clear,
\nthe clear gray icy water . . . Back, behind us,
\nthe dignified tall firs begin.
\nBluish, associating with their shadows,
\na million Christmas trees stand
\nwaiting for Christmas. The water seems suspended
\nabove the rounded gray and blue-gray stones.
\nI have seen it over and over, the same sea, the same,
\nslightly, indifferently swinging above the stones,
\nicily free above the stones,
\nabove the stones and then the world.
\nIf you should dip your hand in,
\nyour wrist would ache immediately,
\nyour bones would begin to ache and your hand would burn
\nas if the water were a transmutation of fire
\nthat feeds on stones and burns with a dark gray flame.
\nIf you tasted it, it would first taste bitter,
\nthen briny, then surely burn your tongue.
\nIt is like what we imagine knowledge to be:
\ndark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free,
\ndrawn from the cold hard mouth
\nof the world, derived from the rocky breasts
\nforever, flowing and drawn, and since
\nour knowledge is historical, flowing, and flown.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ut A Cold Spring<\/em>, 1955. De begjinrigel fan \u2018A Mighty Fortress Is Our God\u2019, de Ingelske ferzje fan Martin Luther syn gesang \u2018Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott\u2019, is hjir werj\u00fbn neffens de oersetting fan Ype Poortinga (Frysl\u00e2n sjongt!<\/em>, 1943; ek yn lettere lietebondels).<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  By de fiskloadsen Hoewol\u2019t it in k\u00e2lde j\u00fbn is, sit der by ien fan de fiskloadsen in \u00e2ldman te netteboetsjen. Syn net is yn de skimer hast \u00fbnsichtber, in donker pearsbr\u00fan, en syn priem fersliten en gl\u00eadwreaun. De loft … Fierder l\u00eaze →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[657],"tags":[699,655,698],"class_list":["post-11676","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-elizabeth-bishop","tag-martin-luther","tag-elizabeth-bishop","tag-ype-poortinga"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11676","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=11676"}],"version-history":[{"count":17,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11676\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12979,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11676\/revisions\/12979"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=11676"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=11676"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=11676"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}