Linda Pastan
De Amerikaanse dichteres Linda Pastan werd geboren op 27 mei 1932 in New York. Zie ook alle tags voor Linda Pastan op dit blog.
Agoraphobia
“Yesterday the bird of night did sit,
Even at noon-day, upon the marketplace,
Hooting and shrieking.”
—William Shakespeare
1.
Imagine waking
to a scene of snow so new
not even memories
of other snow
can mar its silken
surface. What other innocence
is quite like this,
and who can blame me
for refusing
to violate such whiteness
with the booted cruelty
of tracks?
2.
Though I cannot leave this house,
I have memorized the view
from every window—
23 framed landscapes, containing
each nuance of weather and light.
And I know the measure
of every room, not as a prisoner
pacing a cell
but as the embryo knows
the walls of the womb, free
to swim as its body tells it, to nudge
the softly fleshed walls,
dreading only the moment
of contraction when it will be forced
into the gaudy world.
3.
Sometimes I travel as far
as the last stone
of the path, but
every step,
as in the children’s story,
pricks that tender place
on the bottom of the foot,
and like an ebbing tide with all
the obsession of the moon behind it,
I am dragged back.
4.
I have noticed in windy fall
how leaves are torn from the trees,
each leaf waving goodbye to the oak
or the poplar that housed it;
how the moon, pinned
to the very center of the window,
is like a moth wanting only to break in.
What I mean is this house
follows all the laws of lintel and ridgepole,
obeys the commandments of broom
and of needle, custom and grace.
It is not fear that holds me here but passion
and the uncrossable moat of moonlight
outside the bolted doors.
Wilde bloemen
Je gaf me paardenbloemen.
Ze namen ons gazon in bezit
met het recht van kolonisten –
ronde zonnen die opkomen
in april, zachte manen
die wegwaaien in juni.
Je gaf me vrouwenschoentjes,
bloedwortel, zijdeplant,
trillium, waarvan het geheime aantal
de kinderen die je me gaf
vertellen. In de hiërarchie
van bloemen staan de wilde
op hun stengels
om benoemd te worden.
Noem ze onkruid.
Ik pluk ze zoals ik
jou plukte,
vanwege hun felle,
onstuimige vreugde.
Vertaald door Frans Roumen
Linda Pastan (27 mei 1932 – 30 januari 2023)
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 27e mei ook mijn blog van 27 mei 2023 en ook mijn blog van 27 mei 2020 en eveneens mijn blog van 27 mei 2019 en ook mijn blog van 27 mei 2018 deel 2.
