Poem of the Week, week 39: Kate Næss "Mist"

MIST

I built bridges of rain
towards what I did not understand,
but each and every morning
slid backwards in the tracks of the night.
Today, the sundial has stopped,
and everything that happens
are signs I have read long ago.
The fog comes in waves,
in heavy strokes of a bell,
but I no longer know
what is mist, what is time.
In the years of my youth
I sense the night awakening.

Kate Næss (1938-1987)

Translated by Jenifer Lloyd in nordicwomensliterature.net from Kate Næss, Billedskrift.

See the poem in Norwegian

Poem of the Week

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