Poetry International Poetry International
Gedicht

Ingrid Storholmen

03. I hold the face against my eye

I hold the face against my eye
with warm fingers
where is the simple hand
The lonely hand
The nerves in the hand are full-grown
My hand hurts, only you can heal it




When you are in your hand
The darkness of the palm

My hand is tired today
between the eye your arm


                                                         hands gather water-drops
                                                                                                      like gifts


the hands hold my name
the newborn name


                                         The hands inside me, fingers fill me out

03. I hold the face against my eye

Jeg holder ansiktet mot øyet
med fingrene varme
Hvor er den enkle hånden
Den ensomme hånden
Nervene i hånden er utvokste
Hånden min har vondt, bare du kan lege den




Når du er i din hånd
Det mørke i håndflaten

Hånden min er trett i dag
mellom øyet din arm


                                             hender samler vanndråper
                                                                                              som gaver


hendene holder navnet mitt
det nyfødte navnet


                                     Hendene inni meg, fingre fyller meg ut
Ingrid Storholmen

Ingrid Storholmen

(Noorwegen, 1976)

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03. I hold the face against my eye

Jeg holder ansiktet mot øyet
med fingrene varme
Hvor er den enkle hånden
Den ensomme hånden
Nervene i hånden er utvokste
Hånden min har vondt, bare du kan lege den




Når du er i din hånd
Det mørke i håndflaten

Hånden min er trett i dag
mellom øyet din arm


                                             hender samler vanndråper
                                                                                              som gaver


hendene holder navnet mitt
det nyfødte navnet


                                     Hendene inni meg, fingre fyller meg ut

03. I hold the face against my eye

I hold the face against my eye
with warm fingers
where is the simple hand
The lonely hand
The nerves in the hand are full-grown
My hand hurts, only you can heal it




When you are in your hand
The darkness of the palm

My hand is tired today
between the eye your arm


                                                         hands gather water-drops
                                                                                                      like gifts


the hands hold my name
the newborn name


                                         The hands inside me, fingers fill me out
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