by Gyrðir Elíasson

Serenity
     for Tóroddur Poulsen

“Spring’s silenced,”
said the old woman
as her cat bit
into the head of a snow bunting
that had flown
into the kitchen window
in the rain

Translated by Meg Matich.

by Gyrðir Elíasson

When I came inside the dark house
after a while away, I laid my bag
aside and glanced at the ceramic
animals on the shelf, lit obliquely
as if from within.  I sat
in an easy chair and watched them
a long time in the darkness like
a zookeeper in wartime.
I realized that my journey
wasn’t over even though I had already
come home

Translated by Meg Matich.
Originally appeared in eleveneleven journal.

by Gyrðir Elíasson

Contribution to the Nepalese
Philosophy of Existence

Nobody has heard
a snow leopard sneeze

Translated by Meg Matich.

by Sigurður Pálsson

Kærleikur
Kindness

The evening brightened steadily
At midnight, light clouds in the sky
iridescent delight 

Clouds that are surely called something
We’re all surely called something

Where does it come from?  This brightness
that grows steadily with the night?

Where does this
iridescent delight come from?
All of this holy joy! 

Water in an iridescent basin
Iridiscent water in a basin 

Translated by Meg Matich and Magnús Sigurðsson.