Poesia kaiera
Karta jokalariak
Hor doa txinbilin-txanbalan Jan van Hogspeuw aterantz,
pixa egin du ilunpetan. Kanpoan, euria
lohizko gurdi arrasto sakonetatik behera.
Barnean, Dirk Dogstoerd-ek edalontzia bete eta
kurrikekin txingarra harturik pipa izeki du
ke korrokadaka. Horra Prijck Zaharra zurrungaka ekaitzarekin,
kaskezur bisaia su argitan; zerbeza edaten
eta muskuiluak zabaltzen ari da norbait, solibetako
urdaiazpikoei amodio kantak kroaka.
Hortxe Dirk kartak banatzen. Antzinako zuhaitz umelak
dardarka ari dira izar gabeko jirabiran
argimutildun haitzulo honen gainean; Janek puzker egin, sua kitzikatu
eta bihotz-erregina bota du.
Euria, haizea, sua! Ezkutuko bake basa!
The Card-Players
Jan van Hogspeuw staggers to the door / And pisses at the dark. Outside, the rain / Courses in cart-ruts down the deep mud lane. / Inside, Dirk Dogstoerd pours himself some more, / And holds a cinder to his clay with tongs, / Belching out smoke. Old Prijck snores with the gale, / His skull face firelit; someone behind drinks ale, / And opens mussels, and croaks scraps of songs / Towards the ham-hung rafters about love. / Dirk deals the cards. Wet century-wide trees / Clash in surrounding starlessness above / This lamplit cave, where Jan turns back and farts, / Gobs at the grate, and hits the queen of hearts. // Rain, wind and fire! The secret, bestial peace!