\nIt wie net Dea, want Ik stie op,
\nIn Deade leit lang\u00fat -
\nIt wie net Nacht, want elke Klok
\nStuts Deisk in Tonge \u00fat.<\/p>\n
It wie net Froast, want op myn H\u00fbd
\nKribelen Twirren - broeisk -
\nNoch Fjoer - want myn albasten foet
\nHold it yn Tsjerke skrousk -<\/p>\n
En dochs, it smakke nei dit al,
\nDoe\u2019t Ik de Stalten seach,
\nKreas skikt foar har Be\u00eferdiging,
\n\u2019t Wie oft Ik mines seach -<\/p>\n
As wie myn libben byskaafd
\nEn yn in ramtwurk brocht
\nEn lucht te koart kaam s\u00fbnder kaai,
\nEn \u2019t like op Middernacht -<\/p>\n
As al wat tikke - stean bleaun is -
\nEn romte r\u00fbnom loert -
\nOf Eange ryp - dy\u2019t Hjerstmis moarns
\nFan Gr\u00fbn it B\u00fbnzjen smoart -<\/p>\n
Mar meast op Gaos - Bliuwend - k\u00e2ld -
\nGjin K\u00e2ns, gjin m\u00east te sjen -
\nOf sels mar in Bewyske L\u00e2n -
\nOm Wanhoop - rjocht te dwaan.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
It was not Death, for I stood up,
\nAnd all the Dead, lie down -
\nIt was not Night, for all the Bells
\nPut out their Tongues, for Noon.<\/p>\n
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
\nI felt Siroccos - crawl -
\nNor Fire - for just my marble feet
\nCould keep a Chancel, cool -<\/p>\n
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
\nThe Figures I have seen
\nSet orderly, for Burial,
\nReminded me, of mine -<\/p>\n
As if my life were shaven,
\nAnd fitted to a frame,
\nAnd could not breathe without a key,
\nAnd \u2019twas like Midnight, some -<\/p>\n
When everything that ticked - has stopped -
\nAnd space stares all around -
\nOr Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,
\nRepeal the Beating Ground -<\/p>\n
But, most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -
\nWithout a Chance, or spar -
\nOr even a Report of Land -
\nTo justify - Despair.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
F355 (J510)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It wie net Dea, want Ik stie op, In Deade leit lang\u00fat - It wie net Nacht, want elke Klok Stuts Deisk in Tonge \u00fat. It wie net Froast, want op myn H\u00fbd Kribelen Twirren - broeisk - Noch … Fierder l\u00eaze