Tõnu Õnnepalu, William Carlos Williams

De Estische dichter, schrijver en vertaler Tõnu Õnnepalu werd geboren op 13 september 1962 in Tallin. Zie ook alle tags voor Tõnu Õnnepalu op dit blog.

Uit: Paradise (Vertaald door Christopher Moseley)

And by evening, it is sunshine again. And the wind is warm at once. And below the window, one pretty summer tortoiseshell butterfly came to a dandelion flower to warm its wings. With that soft rain, I myself felt bored. And that is good. The fact that I felt it. For it brought to mind all the boredom of the days in paradise. And there was a lot of that.
Yes, but why? Why can’t we start to be satisfied with what we have?
But I am satisfied now. Satisfied that I can be here these seven days. It’s a long time. There’s plenty of time to feel and think.
Yet before, in the rain that was not really falling, I went for a walk along that road that leads from the gate here and which is one of the roads leading out of Paradise.
For there were four of those roads. The crossroads was in front of the gate on the seaward side, and one road went south from there, another went through the yard and the forest gate to the north (but went around the garden), and the other two led east and west.
The eastward road went past the Allika gardens and up to Aafrika and from there went on to the big highway. But before the Russians built the main highway, that was the main road leading out of Paradise. They conveyed those church people I was speaking about along it, the dead were carried off, and boys went yonder into the wide world. And now people used that road by which you left Paradise, by cycle or by car, for it was the most direct road if you were thinking of going onto the highway, into the wider county, and everywhere.
But for going by bus, you took the north road, which led from the forest gate straight to the Paradise bus stop and post-boxes. If you went on an early bus and it was winter, you certainly had to have a torch with you, because the spot where the road sinks from the forest gate into the forest was very dark. For the branches of the old birches had grown over the road, and you couldn’t even see where the road went by a strip of lighter sky, and you could easily end up in the blueberry bushes and heather feeling your way on foot. Further on, though, there was no problem, for there were the pines, and there was always a bright line of road visible between their branches.

 

Tõnu Õnnepalu (Tallin, 13 september 1962)

 

De Amerikaanse dichter William Carlos Williams werd geboren in Rutherford (New Jersey) op 17 september 1883. Zie ook alle tags voor William Carlos Williams op dit blog.

 

Tedere repliek

Dit zijn van die dagen dat ik wil
stoppen met mijn baan om mee te doen
met de oude man die ik eens
op de kade van Villefranche
op slakdolf zag vissen,
met een gevorkte stok,
in het ondiepe water –

Ik weet
wat anders voor je, zei ze, om iets
mee aan te vangen, in de lente,
heel eenvoudig, als je
zou willen. Maar dat wil je zeker
niet, toch?

 

Vertaald door Huub Beurskens

 

William Carlos Williams (17 september 1883 – 4 maart 1963)
Hier waarschijnlijk met een patiëntje. Williams was kinderarts

 

Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 13e september ook mijn blog van 13 september 2025 en ook mijn blog van 13 september 2020 en eveneens  mijn blog van 13 september 2018 en ook mijn blog van 13 september 2015 deel 1 en ook deel 2.

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