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Gedicht

Eldrid Lunden

The image of the white bear is back

The image of the white bear is back

It’s almost entirely white. An infinite white
mountainside and the white bear
with her cubs tumbling between her legs

She turns her head towards the wind
I’m thinking of her black moist muzzle
but I can only see her head seeking
backwards and forwards

She knows she can smell a male long before
he smells her. And that is her one
advantage. The male believes the cubs are rivals
in the mating season

As she move sideways up the mountain and
disappears over the edge, my book gently closes

The image of the white bear is back

Bildet av den kvite bjørnen kjem tilbake

Det er nesten berre kvitt. Ei uendeleg kvit
fjellside og den kvite binna
med ungar tumlande mellom beina

Ho snur hovudet mot vinden
Eg tenker på den svarte, fuktige snuten hennar
men ser berre hovudet som søker
fram og tilbake

Ho veit ho kan lukte ein hanne lenge før
han luktar henne. Og at dette er den einaste
sjansen ho har. Hannen trur ungane er rivalar
i parringstida

I det binna drar seg sidelengs oppover vidda og
forsvinn over kanten, glir boka igjen
Eldrid Lunden

Eldrid Lunden

(Noorwegen, 1940)

Landen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten uit Noorwegen

Gedichten Dichters

Talen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten in het Noors

Gedichten Dichters
Close

The image of the white bear is back

Bildet av den kvite bjørnen kjem tilbake

Det er nesten berre kvitt. Ei uendeleg kvit
fjellside og den kvite binna
med ungar tumlande mellom beina

Ho snur hovudet mot vinden
Eg tenker på den svarte, fuktige snuten hennar
men ser berre hovudet som søker
fram og tilbake

Ho veit ho kan lukte ein hanne lenge før
han luktar henne. Og at dette er den einaste
sjansen ho har. Hannen trur ungane er rivalar
i parringstida

I det binna drar seg sidelengs oppover vidda og
forsvinn over kanten, glir boka igjen

The image of the white bear is back

The image of the white bear is back

It’s almost entirely white. An infinite white
mountainside and the white bear
with her cubs tumbling between her legs

She turns her head towards the wind
I’m thinking of her black moist muzzle
but I can only see her head seeking
backwards and forwards

She knows she can smell a male long before
he smells her. And that is her one
advantage. The male believes the cubs are rivals
in the mating season

As she move sideways up the mountain and
disappears over the edge, my book gently closes
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