laughter

Gustaf Munch-Petersen: The Lowest Country

in despair

I hurt the shrine,

which you with temples and everything

had bound with the thread of love

beneath my heart,

and it fell –

among low remains

I saw you walk

forever –

 

long I went

carrying my mad laughter

among the ruins –

many came –

none could build temples –

many gave –

none dared take the laughter –

 

o god – god – god –

and if one day you were to return –,

I cannot recognize you –

ha – ha –