Well, it’s a poem from Rolf Jacobsen that fits perfectly in this cold and cozy days. The translation is mine, so be aware.
Rolf Jacobsen – Regn
Himlen har stillet sin harpe på skrå mot jorden
og rører de tusen strenger med døvende vellyd,
løfter de store klemt over skog og sletter
med lekende hender.
Over de nakne marker går jeg og trår på jorden
og kjenner hvor regnet driver om kneet, mulden
puster mot foten
mens himlen legger de tynne striper av jern
tonende over mitt hjerte.
Regn var det første. Øglende bet mot regn.
Langsmed de støvgrå sumper gynger de fuktige trær.
Papegøiene kaklet. Himmelens flyvefisker
rodde sig skrikende frem
gjennem regn.
Gro, sovende land med den brune, blødende jord, gro!
Mett dig med havets såkorn, løft dig og brist
av regn.
Himmelens harpe
rører de tusen strenger, fyller det lyttende øre
med levende låt.
Over det store, syngende billedteppe
veves av milde hender, snakkende drømmer.
Regn var det første sansene skjønte på jorden
– susende regn.
*** translation ***
Rain
The sky has put its harp diagonally to the earth
and touches upon the thousands strings with deafening harmony,
lifts the huge clangs above forest and discards
with playful hands.
Above the naked fields I go and tread on the earth
and recognize where the rain waggles around the knee, the soil
respires towards the foot
while the sky lays the thin stripes of iron
vibrant over my heart.
Rain was first. The reptiles bit rain.
Alongside with the dust-grey marshes swung the dewy trees.
The parrots squawked. The sky’s flying fish
oared vociferously forward
across rain.
Grow, sleepy land with the brown, bleeding ground, grow!
Stuff yourself with the sea’s grain, lift yourself up and burst
from rain.
The sky’s harp
touches upon the thousand strings, fulfills the listening’s ear
with lively song.
Above the big, melodious kilim
woven by gentle hands, talkative dreams.
Rain was the first senses knew on the earth
– hissing rain.
***
Thank you so much for reading! I wish you all a nice rest of the week and stay safe! See you soon with more poems & other stuff.
againorway 