Edvard Søderberg: Poems of the Street
Your skin is white like the harvest sky,
as the pearl thread in your hair;
and the word dies on your lips,
so no sound reaches my ear.
But your large, pale eyes,
which gaze anxiously around,
melancholy and colourless,
tales of many things unwind.
They tell me, what your lips
keep quiet, though I know:
That he betrays and despises
your embrace and your love.
Him love you! – I am nothing,
nothing at all to you,
though you know that I worship and bless
as spring and sun your love.
Beware! Despite all powers,
despite your longing and tears –
it shall yet happen, when time comes,
that you sink into my embrace.
Despite the world, yourself and your love,
despite your hate, your anger, your scorn –
the miracle shall yet happen
that you tremble in my arm.
Yes, despite me knowing that all on Earth
eventually turns to pain and sorrow,
even this love which flames –
when the time comes, it shall follow!