‘Erges rattele in frachtwein, teskuorde de stilte...’

Yn it opkommen

Yn it opkommen


                                                                    By de lichamelikheid fan it Wad


Der wie in see, in lân, in lichem,
it riisde op út it leech fan de westkust wei,

Modder spatte yn it moarnstiidsljocht
oer slinken en fee, rekke
de fleanende fisken fan de wolkens.

Hoe't se har de lea speake, leidich
mei in weeskegroet yn de koperen sinne

Ergens gong in frachtwein, teskuorde
de stilte, sa’t letter stappen
op 'e seedyk skulpen en wier ferpulveren.

2.

Hoe’t se opkaam út see wei,
omtrint alles klassyk Aphrodite
mar gjin moaiens of it komt lang om let

yn skyn te ferdwinen, sa’t
op in oare moarntiid de rûmte te tûmeljen
begûn doe’t se, lynjend oer de finsterbank

fan de kimen, de ruotfûgels seach,
opwjokjend as út Hiëronymus syn djippe
kelders en hellekringen.

Tusken judasstoel, ketterfoarke en
kalashnikov skeaten stien- en moannefisk
troch in hielal, sûnder sintrum.

3.

Herte, hert, o hert, sei se op in jûntiid,
doe’t se in leafde kwyt, weromgie
nei it plak dêr’t se foar it ljocht kaam wie.

Neaken yn it slyk wintele se har it liif,
djipper en djipper om net mear
te witten hoe’t ûnder Tiid syn folteringen
de dingen útelkoar skuord wiene. –

By wize fan liet bedobbe se harsels
yn ierde’s herbergjende modder, en sliepte.


Sjoch ek: Improvisaties op Wind Water en Wad




 


THE RISING


1.

There was a sea, a land, a body,
rising up from the west coast depths.

Mud splashed high in the morning light
over channels and cattle, dappling
the flying fish of the clouds.

How she stretched her seductive limbs,
a greeting in the brassy sun.

Somewhere a lorry started up, disrupting
the silence, like later the footsteps
crushing shells and kelp on the dike.

 

2.

How she rose up out of the sea,
almost classic Aphrodite
but no beauty without a fading

sooner or later of that radiant face
just as space began to tumble on another morning
when she, leaning over the windowsill

of the horizon, saw the soot birds
take wing as if escaping Hiëronymus’s
dungeons and circles of hell.

Past Judas chair, heretic’s fork and
kalashnikov, stone- and sunfish shot
through a universe with no centre.


3.

‘Herte, hert, oh hert,’ she said one evening,
returning love-lost to the place
she had come from for the day.

Naked in the sludge she turned her body
deeper and deeper to escape the knowledge
of how all things tear apart
under the tortures of Time. –

Sinking by way of a lullaby
into the accommodating mud, 
she slept.


Eeltsje Hettinga
Translated by David Colmer