Saturday, September 22, 2007

I hold your head

I hold your head
in my hands, as you hold
my heart in your tenderness
as everything holds and is being
held by something other than itself
As the ocean lifts a rock
to the beach, as the tree
holds the mature fruits of Fall, as
our planet is lifted through planetary space
So we are both held by something and lifted
to where riddle holds riddle by the hand

(Stein Mehren, "Jeg holder ditt hode" from _Mot en verden av lys_ (Toward a world of light), 1963)

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Fleeing youth

Fleeing youth!
A hind
hunted by a pack of
barking dogs.

The great Hunter
at his guard
cooly observes
his hands.

(Claes Gill, "Flyktende ungdom" from _Ord i jærn_ publ. 1942)