Wednesday, August 12, 2015

I am the bird . . .

I was about to delete this picture I took yesterday; then I realized
that the while blotch was another house finch coming in and catching the low morning sun.
This surely is the season for dining on sunflower seed!

Guardian Angel

I am the bird that flutters against your window 

     in the morning,
and your closest friend, whom you can never 
blossoms that light up for the blind.

I am the glacier shining over the woods, so pale,
and heavy voices from the cathedral tower.
The thought that suddenly hits you in the middle 
     of the day
and makes you feel so fantastically happy.

I am the one you have loved for many years.
I walk beside you all day and look intently at 
and put my mouth against your heart
though you’re not aware of it.

I am your third arm, and your second
shadow, the white one,
whom you can not accept,
and who can never forget you.

Rolf Jacobsen; translated by Robert Bly

TWENTY POEMS, The Seventies Press, 1976, pages 43,45.

I preserved the indentation caused by lines that were too long for the format, because I liked
the way it opened up the form slightly. What do you think? I think that the translated poetry from Scandinavia is going to make me very happy for a long, long time!

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