Over 40 years
at the cutting edge
of poetry publishing
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Gerður Kristný, from Bloodhoof

Minningar

snjór sem ég þjappa
í greip
hnoða í kúlu
og kasta

ðað hendir aðeins
í huga mér

Hér festir ekki snjó

...

Skírnir
hvessti á mig
augun

Hestur hans
reistur
og rífur á vöxt

Dökkur á lit
líkt og höggvinn
úr myrkri

Faxið
glóandi akur

taglið
knippi af korni

Memories

snow which I press
in my hands
knead into a ball
and throw

but only
in my mind

snow does not settle here

...

Skírnir, the shining one,
fixed me
with his gaze

His horse
of ample stature
stood with head held high

dark of hue
as if hewn
from darkness

His mane
a sunlit field

his tail
a sheaf of corn