Treasure Island

Iris Mista

(Bolsward)

Yn 'e leechte wurdt it wei


It fielt sa goed te jaan
mei hiel myn hert en dwaan
Mar wat is it nut
en ik wit, it is hurd,
wannear't it him net dielt
Nimmen dy't it fielt
alles wat yn my is
foar net ien in gemis

Iensumer as ea
longerje nei de dea
Gjin doel yn myn wêzen
Skrompeliche flechtigens beferzen
Net ien op dizze ierde
dy't yn en troch my ferfierde,
yn need op dizze dei,
om te eksportearjen de leafde yn my

En alles wat ik joen ha
it bekenne falt net ta
wie neat oars as wat dúst
ferflein op in inkele wynpûst
bedarre op de droechste grûn
Fertarre, as wie it nea net joen
Yn 'e leechte wurdt it wei
en nimt it lêste libben út my mei

April 28,2013

Submitted: Monday, April 07, 2014
Edited: Monday, April 07, 2014

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Topic(s): Depression

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Complex PTSD, Frisian

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