From 'Vinci, later' by the Danish poet Morten Søndergaard

A DOG-FIGHT

for jhs

A wild-mint fragrance

        beneath the twilight ladder

there must be a language

so things can be said as they are

        neither more nor less

there must be a hole in the lid

        in the body so it can rain

down into the heart

evening of granite of nothing

        the dogs are fighting and goodbye sugar

sprinkles onto the fax

there must be many houses

so death gets lost

everything is here for a little while longer

        and the horseradish is in flower

For a translation of the whole collection, go to here