Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Eva Rún Snorradóttir

TO MY CHILDREN

Sleep, sweet babies.

That you may face your first disappointments well-rested.  

They’re gusts of wind — floating over, passing by —

but also always imminent.  

 

Don’t deprive yourselves of pain.

Be careful not to numb yourselves and scatter

make yourselves allergic to, or disconnect from, what it is to live.  

When life becomes unbearable, cry.   

 

Anger and madness are striking landscapes —

May you see them betwixt sunny slopes.  

Let yourselves sink into languor and lethargy

like the mountains and the dark days of winter.  

 

Remember that the greatest riches are intangible

and beyond the measure of time.  

 

Life will bring you misfortunes.  

These heavy morsels are riddles from the deep

and they will lay you low.  

But remember to get up again, with your heads held high

and bow to darkness.

AAN DE KINDEREN

Slaap, lieve kinderen.

Wees uitgerust voor de eerste teleurstellingen.

Ze zijn als windvlagen; zweven langs, glijden voorbij

en zijn tegelijkertijd altijd op komst.

 

Laat jullie niets aan pijn ontbreken.

Waak ervoor je te verdoven of verscheuren

je ongevoelig te maken, van het leven af te sluiten.

Als het leven jullie overweldigt, huil dan.

 

Woede en waanzin zijn een prachtig landschap

mogen jullie het aanschouwen, tussen zonverlichte hellingen.

Laat de apathie en melancholie er zijn

als de bergen en donkere dagen zelf.

 

Onthoud, de belangrijkste rijkdommen zijn onstoffelijk

en buiten de tijd.

 

Het leven brengt tegenslagen.

Die zware delicatessen zijn raadsels uit de diepte

die jullie omver zullen werpen

maar vergeet niet weer met geheven hoofd op te staan

en een buiging te maken voor het duister.

TIL BARNA

Sofið elsku börn.

Takið úthvíld á móti fyrstu vonbrigðunum.  

Þau eru sem vindhviður; svífa yfir, líða hjá  

og eru um leið alltaf yfirvofandi.

 

Farið ekki á mis við sársaukann.  

Varist það að deyfa ykkur og tæta

gera ykkur ónæm og aftengd því að lifa.

Þegar lífið ber ykkur ofurliði, grátið.  

 

Reiði og brjálæði eru ægifagurt landslag  

megi það sjást innan um sólbjartar hlíðar.

Leyfið ykkur að vera í deyfð og drunga  

eins og fjöllin og skammdegið sjálft.

 

Munið að helstu ríkidæmin eru óáþreifanleg  

og handan tímamælinga.  

 

Lífið færir ykkur áföll.  

Þær þungu krásir eru gáturnar úr djúpinu  

sem fella ykkur  

en munið að standa keik upp aftur

og hneigja ykkur fyrir myrkrinu.

Close

TO MY CHILDREN

Sleep, sweet babies.

That you may face your first disappointments well-rested.  

They’re gusts of wind — floating over, passing by —

but also always imminent.  

 

Don’t deprive yourselves of pain.

Be careful not to numb yourselves and scatter

make yourselves allergic to, or disconnect from, what it is to live.  

When life becomes unbearable, cry.   

 

Anger and madness are striking landscapes —

May you see them betwixt sunny slopes.  

Let yourselves sink into languor and lethargy

like the mountains and the dark days of winter.  

 

Remember that the greatest riches are intangible

and beyond the measure of time.  

 

Life will bring you misfortunes.  

These heavy morsels are riddles from the deep

and they will lay you low.  

But remember to get up again, with your heads held high

and bow to darkness.

TO MY CHILDREN

Sleep, sweet babies.

That you may face your first disappointments well-rested.  

They’re gusts of wind — floating over, passing by —

but also always imminent.  

 

Don’t deprive yourselves of pain.

Be careful not to numb yourselves and scatter

make yourselves allergic to, or disconnect from, what it is to live.  

When life becomes unbearable, cry.   

 

Anger and madness are striking landscapes —

May you see them betwixt sunny slopes.  

Let yourselves sink into languor and lethargy

like the mountains and the dark days of winter.  

 

Remember that the greatest riches are intangible

and beyond the measure of time.  

 

Life will bring you misfortunes.  

These heavy morsels are riddles from the deep

and they will lay you low.  

But remember to get up again, with your heads held high

and bow to darkness.

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère