Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
| You dreamed this path you dreamed this path: trim, well-tended, gently curved swept clean of twigs, spent blossoms, weeds, ugliness and pain; but you couldn't keep the blooms in bounds when once you looked away nor me as I strayed to smell that one weed you forgot to pull. It looked a bit like me, neglected, sad among that overwhelming beauty, yet there it rooted even bloomed if only just for me. This was the path you chose for me the one I wandered off to find my way among those weeds and thorny friends whose ugliness and pain became the mirror in which I could be myself, a me, that you could never see. KE [177.27] (10.april.2020) ** Image ID #2218586 Unavailable ** for:
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