Translation / Übersetzung
by / von Walter A. Aue




Emily Dickinson:

The sky is low...

The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.

A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.




Emily Dickinson:

Tief hängt der Himmel...

Tief hängt der Himmel, Wolken drohn;
die Schneeflock' auf der Reis'
denkt nach, ob einen Weg sie von
der Spur zur Scheune weiß.

Der Wind, verzwängt, verflucht sein Teil,
so schlecht ergeht's ihm schon:
Natur, wie wir, vergißt zuweil
auf Ihre Sternenkron'.


...



Other poems by Emily Dickinson

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First posted: January 2006
Last updated: October 2006

N.B.: The frame around the poems
shows reflections between two boats
in Hubbards harbour, Nova Scotia.

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