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Ingibjörg Haralsdóttir (Island, 1942)

Ingibjörg Haralsdóttir

(Island, 1942)

November poem

I
Sat down at a distance. Waited
for the blizzard to pass.
So I thought.

Resounding in my ears
a sigh
from the October forest:

Naked and black stood the trees
cold as death all the songbirds
and the silence piercing

until someone said: All paths
lead from here

II
You who knew all the answers
pranced whimsically
along the valley
pointed to the mountaintop:
up there
the journey is bound
unfaltering undoubting
you believed

stand bowed now
around you the yielding
marsh

and silence

III
Like losing God
without ever having him
like standing
ready to leave
on the quayside
watching the ships
sailing past

like losing
something
that no one had

Translated by Bernard Scudder.

Última actualización: 28/06/2018