The fish catches its food
and itself is caught, has its
head
cut off with a cracking sound,
the smell of fish blood rises
while
under the knife the fish still
twitches.
The light bones and feathers
lie scattered among grass and
stones,
where the bird circled in the
air,
smelled its way to earthworms in
the soil,
before the marten consumed its
meal.
On the grassy plains a hungry
wolf
goes after the sheep's bellies
and guts,
on the carcasses the ribs
are gnawed away, flies and worms
take care of the last remnants.
In the dust among the rubble of
war
the wounded lie,
I recognize the smell,
when an angel is grazed.
In the dust among the rubble of
war
lie the dead,
victims of a bloody hour, who
once
lay in wombs,
must now be placed in the grave
infinitely close to our hearts.
Breathing, collision,
the locations accumulate,
rocks and clods of earth,
the whole world is a crime
scene.
translated from Danish by David McDuff
No comments:
Post a Comment