Poem: The Sun and the Copper Beech


The summer sun
sends fluctuating rays down
through the leaves of the copper beech,
standing majestically
in my parents’ garden
outside the tall window of their living room.

Silhouettes on the old wooden floor,
from the flickering sun,
are flying around
like freshly hatched flies
who have just been freed from
the earthly dunghill
behind the barn, housing livestock.

These zealous young beasts
strike me one after another –

And threaten to make me

(Translation/re-written from Nordvest – Thydigte)

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