Stilhed

Vandet er tom

som hendes øjne

i sommer

som vores ure

ved fødslen.

 

Et møl uden et vinge

flyver til køkkenet

hvor to måltilder hviler

i den stillheden af det kolde,

som igår

som altid.

 

Jeg er tomheden

mellem dine fødder

og jorden,

mellem dine hænder

og verden.

 

//

 

The water is empty

like her eyes

in summer

like our clocks

at birth.

 

A moth without a wing

flies into the kitchen

where two meals rest

in the quietness of the cold,

like yesterday

as always.

 

I am the emptiness

between your feet

and the earth,

between your hands

and the world.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s