De inspiratie van Discover monthly #2

We vonden dit verhaal van László Krasznahorkai op de site van The New Yorker (vertaald door Ottilie Mulzet). We waagden ons niet aan een vertaling naar het Nederlands. Ondervind je moeite met deze Engelse tekst? Dan kan deze vertaalapp je op weg helpen. Zit je hierna nog met vragen? Laat het ons weten, dan geven we je enkele tips of denken we mee na over een insteek.

I Don’t Need Anything from Here

I would leave everything here: the valleys, the hills, the paths,
and the jaybirds from the gardens, I would leave here
the petcocks and the padres, heaven and earth, spring and fall,
I would leave here the exit routes, the evenings in the kitchen,
the last amorous gaze, and all of the city-bound directions that make you shudder,
I would leave here the thick twilight falling upon the land, gravity, hope, enchantment, and tranquillity,
I would leave here those beloved and those close to me,
everything that touched me, everything that shocked me, fascinated and uplifted me,
I would leave here the noble, the benevolent, the pleasant, and the demonically beautiful,
I would leave here the budding sprout, every birth and existence,
I would leave here incantation, enigma, distances, inexhaustibility,
and the intoxication of eternity;
for here I would leave this earth and these stars,
because I would take nothing with me from here,
because I’ve looked into what’s coming, and I don’t need anything from here.