II
Ljocht en dei ferrane
As bline leavjenden, neaken
As de see, wyld as de weagen strânjend
Yn eagen dy’t eagen it tinken benimme.
En fan fier, wyn yn ‘e wol, gersfrettend, de winterskiep
Under gysten stirnzen,
Seefûgels boppe it floedmerk –
It kymstrakke twaspoar fan earmoed en
Ferlittenens (gesicht dat it witen ûntstrûpt),
Iensume jacht fan ‘e skraits yn pûsters tebeksetten.
Tusken de blauwe kust
Fan it westen en de grize
Herne fan it grimmitich noarden rint,
Ut it lead hingjend troch de gisel fan ‘e wyn,
In frou mei seegriene eagen dy’t fergeat om te sjen.
Op de swarte hakken
Fan ’t lot (dat wiist nei in doar mei
In matte fan ‘en mar wachtsje’ derfoar),
Wrakselet se, nacht foar noch nei, yn it mulpunt
Fan leechte, nei neat dat har har namme tasizze sil.
II
Light and day coalesce
Like blind lovers, naked
As the sea, wild as the waves stranding
In eyes that deprive eyes of thought.
And far off, wind in their wool, grazing winter sheep
Beneath stormy terns,
Sea gulls above the tidemark –
The taut twin skyline track of destitution and
Desolation (a face that eludes knowledge)
The lonely hunt of the osprey into gusts of wind.
Between the blue coastline
Of the west and the grey
Quarter of the grim north, a woman walks –
Hanging lopsided because of the lashing wind –
One with green eyes, who forgot to look around her.
On the black heels
Of fate (that points to a door
With a mat of ‘just wait and see’ in front of it)
She struggles, night neither ahead nor behind, at the hub
Of the emptiness, for nothing willing to pledge her her name.
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