With the wing of an eagle, so wide,
the sail of the boat on the stream
strikes to death the sun in the room
and all that remains is a gleam.
The sail like a moving hand
has wiped out the sunlight’s fall
that streaked through the window-glass
and played on the yellow wall.
In the stately sail is a threat
and sense of a word of beware
which for the briefest of spells
destroys the mood that was there.
But all is so quickly passed
the light so shortly disturbed,
that looking up, we have not seen
and the sense of the word is not heard.
Augusta Peaux (1859 - 1944) The Netherlands
Translated by Hans Koningsberger
Source: Modern Dutch Poetry by Hans Koningsberger, Netherlands Information Service, 1955
Thank you for this
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