Grimaces of Language

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Grimaces of Language

Blue Pictures on a Green Easel
Thoughts in a Moon Catamaran
Larger Than Everything
Behind the Mask
From the Top of the Moment
Back Across the Opposite Pole
Linguistic Search Party
We Count the Year Rings of the Body
Grimaces of Language

Translated from Norwegian by Ingrid Haug
From “Под виножитото на ноќта / Under nattens regnbue / Underneath the Rainbow of the Night”, Blesok, 2012.

your ocean compass is bathing in sunshine
and the prow is digging into
white sand before stopping ..
no footprints left by naked feet here
nor any bird carcasses dissolved in salt
only wet flapping sails clapping you on your back
and wind across your sun-burned shoulders ..

the Tristan albatross is still hovering over the mast-top
polishing its scientific gaze against the surface of the sea
this ocean on eternity’s ball bearings
and rocks worn round and shaped by wavy fingers ..
you stand at the shores of your own body
feeling the tide rise in your eyes
while you observe the lonely coconut
which the ocean has brought here from another shore ..

maybe cut loose with a sharp machete
or chewed into freedom by the dentures of the wind ..
there is no tsunami on its way into this island kingdom
do these micro-continents know each other’s names?
you wonder while time becomes a large strange bird
across the same ocean which answers its own echo
and rolls on with its sleep-walker’s heart intact ..
your skin desert drinks this all-embracing blue
waiting for the night to light its diamonds

AuthorTriztan Vindtorn
2018-08-21T17:22:58+00:00 April 29th, 2009|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 65|0 Comments