"kjenner" poems
WHITE DOWN
White down
so high
and yet so lowly, soft,
your flecks of light
where brown turf darkens
damp,
so innocently growing
'spite the weather;
torn clouds,
against the blue or grey,
beside you green of moss
stone, heather,
grasses, hay,
Not lauded,
given honours like the rose
but there the mountain knows
your sweet repose.
M. A. Waddicor
10th sept 2011.
Translated into Norwegian...
MYRULL
Kvite dun
så høgt på strå
og likevel så kravlaus, mjuk.
Lysa dine logar
der torva mørknar
fuktig, brun.
Du veks uskuldig, rein
trass uvêr,
rivne skyer
mot det blå og grå.
Ved sida di er grøne mosen,
stein, lyng,
gras og vier.
Ikkje lovprisa
eller gjeve heidersteikn, som rosa bar;
men fjellet kjenner til
din vakre kvilestad.
M. A. Waddicor/ Gjendikting ved Åse Lilleskare Faugstad
COTTON GRASS YOU WAVE
Waving at the sky,
you tufts of downy white,
your presence in the marsh,
or standing on the cracked dry earth,
the bottom of a bog.
So delicate you are,
in such a place,
where winter blizzards blow,
and icy waters, snow,
cover your bed.
Yet there you always are,
a faithful friend to travellers,
a light where grey skies dull,
a flag to show where not to go
in rain.
As pretty as a poem tossed
on hardy stems
not pictured in a painting
yet as dainty, beautiful
and free,
as any bloom can be.
M. Ann Waddicor
10th September 2011.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 7:47 AM UTC
Kina poetry på gjesthuset en kveld i regn (Norwegian)
Korean poetry about a guesthouse one evening of rain.
Høstregn senker seg over gjestehuset
kaldt utafor, rolig natt med lampe
trist inni meg, sorgfull i rom
i hjertet en munk som mediterer.
Autumn rain sinks over the guesthouse
it's cold outside, night is calm with a lamp
of sadness inside me, a room of mourning
in my heart a monk who meditates.
Ch 'oe Ch'iwon. Korea
also by him with my attempts at translation:
Høstvind bare sang bittert
knapt en venn kjenner min lyd
regnet siler ute i mørket
fra lampen min går hugen langt.
Autumn's wind sings bitterly
hardly a friend knows my voice
rain pours down out in the dark
from my lamp memory travels far
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
J’ai Perdu Mon Couer
I kept all my childhood dreams
in the sweaty palms of my hands
and one after another they found a
regret and slipped
away.
Jeg Mistett mitt hjerte
J’ai garde tous les rêves
dans la paume de mes mains
moites et l’un après l’autre ils
ont trouvé un regret et tranquillement
glissé ****
I Lost My Heart
Jeg beholdt barndommen drommer
i svett handflatene og etter hverandre
de fant anger go fled unna.
But that is not where I am.
I am a day dreamer
I am a dream chaser, all night long.
I am striding half empty
always to feel the joy, pouring
spilling over the edge of
my day into night. Running
down the sides of this vessel,
saturated with the pieces
of the dreams that stuck
to the sweat and in the pores
of these two hands of a man
that hide the child’s hands inside.
De svarte skyene kjenner mitt navn
Yes, the black clouds know my name
Les nuages noirs connaissent mon nom.
And I know the God that created this heart.
Je l’entends battre
Som Thors hammer
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 1:26 AM UTC
Han bøyer hodet mot vinden
Kjenner historien svinne hen bak lukkede gardiner
Tenker på den kvinnen
Den kvinnen
Hennes blodrøde lepper
Bak mørke øyne
Ligger det en bunnløs frykt
*** faller tungt til bakken
Døden venter ei på solskinnsdager
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC