A burst of dust obscured the sun,
spilled down the mountain slopes
to my love
and her lover’s
winter lair.
A footbridge swayed under
my steps as I stumbled
on without direction.
Just as far over that span
have I come as since childhood,
so death will be met in its place
somewhere between me now
and those gray shafts on the opposite shore.
(This all lasted less than an instant
– what rests of being.)
After the Danish of Henrik Nordbrandt, Drøm om fortvivlelse
En støvet sky gik for solen
og lagde bjergsiden ned
til et vinterleje
for min elskede
og hendes elsker.
En bro gungrede under mine fødder
men mine skridt
havde ingen retning.
Der var lige så langt over broen
som jeg var kommet fra min barndom.
Så døden måtte findes
et sted mellem mig og de grå pile
på den modsatte bred.
Det hele varede mindre end et minut
men resten af verden.