Let down the bars, o death!

Emily Dickinson / Karel Demoet

Let down the bars, O Death!
The tired flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat,
Whose wandering is done.

Thine is the stillest night,
Thine the securest fold;
Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too willing to be called.

Laat de hekken neer, o dood!
De vermoeide kuddes komen er aan
Hun blaten verstomt,
Hun zwerftocht is gedaan.

Van u is de stilste nacht,
Bij u de veiligste schoot;
U bent te nabij om u te zoeken,
Te gretig om u aan te roepen.