Middag
Et heftigt Ildstænk mod det haarde Blaa
staar Middagssolen hed i strittende Straalen.
Den tørre Muldbrink er saa pulvergraa,
Insekter summer over Agerkaalen.
Den stille Dag sig strækker vidt og højt
Omkring mig Myg og Sommerfugle svirrer.
Fra Luft og Løv der pibler klare Fløjt.
I glarfin Dis de fjerne Flader dirrer.
--
I Søens blanke, afmagtstunge Vand
staar Fisken stiv og dum fra Gab til Hale.
Nu slog den Snuden mod den bratte Strand
og nøs og dasked hen i Dybets Dale.
Der ligger den paa Bund i Søen klar,
og fra dens Snude gaar tilvejrs en Boble;
den stirrer op mod Overfladens Glar,
hvor Solen gynger som en ildgul Gople.
--
En Bondepige sidder i en Grøft –
med korte Særkeærmer, nøgne Arme.
Man ser det øverste af Barmens Kløft –
der ligger Draaber, Sol og Kødets Varme. – –
Det er saa varmt og godt ved Muld og Strand.
Det er en Sommerdag i Danmarks Land.
Midday
A violent splash of fire against hard blue,
the midday sun stands hot in bristling rays.
The bank of earth’s so powder-grey in hue,
Each insect above navew hums and sways.
The still day stretches out both far and high.
Around me butterflies and midges whirl.
Clear song-notes trickle from the leaves and sky.
In glassy haze the far expanses swirl.
--
Down in the glassy lake with sluggish maw
the fish stands stiff and dull from mouth to tail.
It snuffed its snout now on the sudden shore
and sneezed and flapped down to the deepest dale.
In clearest water it reposes there,
the bubbles from its snout rise on a wire,
it stares up at the glassy surface where
the sun rocks like a jellyfish on fire.
--
A peasant girl sits in a ditch and rests –
with short-sleeved shift and with her brown arms bare.
You glimpse the topmost cleavage of her breasts –
with glistening beads and sun and warm flesh there.
It is so fine and warm near soil and sand.
It is a summer’s day in Denmark’s land.
This poem is woven into pp. 195-199 of Klaus Høeck's collection 'In Nomine'. For an English translation of the entire collection, go to here.
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