pobratvi

TVILERENS SERENADE	A SCEPTIC'S SERENADE
Hanne Bramness	tr. Hanne Bramness & Frances Presley (from Norwegian)
Holder den hete jorden nær sitt ansikt sine lepper ord holder det blå tre i sine frukters hjerter et mørke i bladenes skygger holder ørkenens sand det siste lys fra stjerner i hvite korn holder det åpne bassenget i jorden en sol stiger i natten fra store klokker dype toner i ekko utover fuktige marker havnen stiger fra havet stjernestimer en grønn måne møter oppadvendte lengtende øyne sin skrift i de fremmede kropper brytes i margen viljen med varmen fra den brune jorden og de blå skygger i blodet med is	Does the hot earth hold close to its face its lips words does the red tree in the heart of fruits hold a darkness in the shadow of leaves do the sands of the desert hold a late light from stars in white granules and does the open pool in the earth hold a sun is there an echo of deep strokes from huge clocks rising in the night over fields and the harbour with shoals of stars and a green moon do upturned longing eyes correspond with a writing in strange bodies does the will wrestle in the marrow with heat from the brown earth and blue shadows in the blood with ice