from her coat of sparrows
she would pick one each morning
wring its neck and spend
the day mourning it
sometimes her willed sadness took
the shape of an ant
sometimes her darling sadness took
the shape of a wolf
sometimes her treasured sadness took
the shape of a horse
black, black, black and wild
and she would ride through
the landscape like an ill wind
revenging the death of her sparrow
as the night began to rise
from the ground again
she was exhausted and empty
except for the sadness
of her loss of the sadness
of the morning sparrow’s death
and no one knew
but
the ant
the wolf
and the horse
and the sparrows that swept her
in soft light clad in darkness
when she fell asleep
.
fra sin kåbe af spurve
valgte hun én hver morgen
vred halsen om på den og brugte
dagen til at sørge over den
nogle gange antog hendes ville sorg
en myres skikkelse
nogle gange antog hendes elskede sorg
en ulvs skikkelse
nogle gange antog hendes skattede sorg
skikkelse af en hest
sort, sort, sort og vild
og hun red gennem landskabet
som en ond vind hævnende
hendes spurvs død
da natten begyndte at rejse sig
fra jorden igen
var hun udmattet og tom
bortset fra sorgen over
at have mistet sorgen over
morgenspurvens død
og ingen vidste det
bortset fra
myren
ulven
og hesten
og spurvene der svøbte hende
i blødt lys klædt i mørke
når hun faldt i søvn