Metamorphose in April
Suddenly
the white is cracking,
the blue rises,
the green wakes up.
Wagtails,
do they cross the sky
or my heart?
My dark coat,
my thick gloves
at the clothesline
fly away
believing they are
blackbirds.
Metamorfose i april
Brått
sprekk det kvite,
det blåe stig,
det grøne vaknar.
Linerler,
kryssar dei himmelen
eller hjarta mitt?
Den mørke frakken,
dei tjukke hanskane
på klessnora
flyr avgårde,
trur at dei er
svarttrost.
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