{"id":13456,"date":"2020-01-31T01:00:00","date_gmt":"2020-01-31T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=13456"},"modified":"2020-01-31T01:47:09","modified_gmt":"2020-01-31T00:47:09","slug":"elizabeth-bishop-parys-7-oere-moarns","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.konsenylje.nl\/?p=13456","title":{"rendered":"Elizabeth Bishop, Parys, 7 oere moarns<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\nParys, 7 oere moarns<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

Ik meitsje in toer l\u00e2ns elke klok yn it appartemint:
\nfan \u00fbnwittende platen \u00f4f wize guon wizers
\nte\u00e4traal de iene kant \u00fat en oaren oare kanten.
\nTiid is in Etoile; de oeren rinne sasear \u00fatien
\ndat dagen deitochten l\u00e2ns de foarst\u00eaden binne,
\nsirkels om stjerren hinne, sirkels dy\u2019t elkoar oerlaapje.
\nDe koarte, rastere skaal fan wintersk waar
\nis in \u00fatsprate dowewjuk.
\nDe winter banket \u00fbnder in dowewjuk, in deade wjuk
\n      mei dampe fearren.<\/p>\n

Sjoch nei \u00fbnderen yn de binnenpleats.
\nAlle huzen binne op dy manier boud,
\nmei ornamintele urnen op mansardedakken
\nd\u00ear\u2019t dowen omtripkje. D\u00ear yn stoarje
\nis as yntrospeksje, of retrospeksje,
\nin stjer binnen in rjochthoek, in tebinnenbringen:
\ndat lege karree hie maklik d\u00earsa w\u00eaze kind.
\n\u2013 De bernlike sniekastielen, boud yn griller winters,
\nhienen dat formaat helje kind en dan huzen west;
\nde sterke sniekastielen, fjouwer, fiif etaazjes heech,
\ndy\u2019t de maitiid wjerstienen as s\u00e2nkastielen it tij,
\nde muorren, de kontoeren, koenen net rane, rekken
\n      net wei,
\nmar oerlapen elkoar yn hechte skeakeling, ferstienne,
\nno griis en giel wurden as dizzen hjirre.<\/p>\n

W\u00ear is de munysje, de oploege ballen
\nmei de ta stjerren tesplintere herten fan iis?
\nDizze loft is gjin oarlochspostdo
\ndy\u2019t oan einleas elkoar trochsnijende sirkels \u00fbntkomt.
\nIt is in deadenien, of de loft d\u00ear\u2019t in deadenien \u00fat foel.
\nDe urnen hawwe syn jiske of syn fearren opheind.
\nWannear foel de stjer \u00fatien, of waard er beflapt
\ntroch de rige karrees, karrees en sirkels, sirkels?
\nIs er d\u00ear \u00fbnder, dogge de klokken beskie
\noft er hast deltr\u00fbzelet yn de snie?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Paris, 7 A.M.<\/em><\/big><\/p>\n

I make a trip to each clock in the apartment:
\nsome hands point histrionically one way
\nand some point others, from the ignorant faces.
\nTime is an Etoile; the hours diverge
\nso much that days are journeys round the suburbs,
\ncircles surrounding stars, overlapping circles.
\nThe short, half-tone scale of winter weathers
\nis a spread pigeon\u2019s wing.
\nWinter lives under a pigeon\u2019s wing, a dead wing
\n      with damp feathers.<\/p>\n

Look down into the courtyard. All the houses
\nare built that way, with ornamental urns
\nset on the mansard roof-tops where the pigeons
\ntake their walks. It is like introspection
\nto stare inside, or retrospection,
\na star inside a rectangle, a recollection:
\nthis hollow square could easily have been there.
\n\u2014The childish snow-forts, built in flashier winters,
\ncould have reached these proportions and been houses;
\nthe mighty snow-forts, four, five, stories high,
\nwithstanding spring as sand-forts do the tide,
\ntheir walls, their shape, could not dissolve and die,
\nonly be overlapping in a strong chain, turned to stone,
\nand grayed and yellowed now like these.<\/p>\n

Where is the ammunition, the piled-up balls
\nwith the star-splintered hearts of ice?
\nThis sky is no carrier-warrior-pigeon
\nescaping endless intersecting circles.
\nIt is a dead one, or the sky from which a dead one fell.
\nThe urns have caught his ashes or his feathers.
\nWhen did the star dissolve, or was it captured
\nby the sequence of squares and squares and circles,
\n      circles?
\nCan the clocks say; is it there below,
\nabout to tumble in snow?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ut North & South<\/em>, 1946. \u2018Paris, 7 A.M.\u2019 waard foar it earst publisearre yn july 1937. YouTube: Georgia Scalliet draacht \u2018Paris, 7 A.M.\u2019 foar yn in Fr\u00e2nske oersetting troch Claire Malroux.<\/p>\n