ALF OG DAMERNE
’Alf og damerne’ troede jeg det hed
det blad, min moder købte hver uge.
Der var altid en dame på forsiden
og enkelte herrer indeni.
Men når jeg bladede det igennem
fandt jeg aldrig et billede af en
der helt svarede til min forestilling om Alf.
Det var så meget mere forvirrende
som det i sig selv var utroligt
at de hver eneste uge
kunne skrive så meget nyt
om Alf og damerne!
Mærkelig mand, den Alf!
tænkte jeg beundrende
- og så alle de damer
dem på gaden
dem i tog og sporvogne
og sikkert også alle de andre!
Hvor stor var ikke min skuffelse
da jeg lærte at læse.
O, damer! Og I, småpiger
som lærdom endnu ikke har ødelagt.
Tænk en gang imellem
på stakkels, gamle Alf.
Tag ham med i jeres aftenbøn.
Lad ham nu og da få
en beskeden plads mellem jeres prinser
eller popstjerner, hvem I nu drømmer om
så han ikke altid skal gå hjem alene.
Women’s Owen
‘Women’s Owen’ was what I thought it was called
the magazine my mother bought every week.
There was always a woman on the front cover
and a few men inside.
But when I leafed through it
I never found a picture of anyone
who exactly corresponded to my idea of Owen.
It was all the more confusing
and all the more incredible in itself
that every single week
they could write so much new stuff
about those women’s Owen!
Strange man, this Owen!
I use to think admiringly -
and then all those women
those in the street
those in trains and trams
and probably all the others, too!
How great was my disappointment
when I learned to read.
Oh, women! And you small girls
who learning has yet to ruin.
Just think from time to time
of poor old Owen.
Include him in your evening prayers.
Let him from time to time gain
a modest place among your princes
or pop stars, whoever it is you dream of,
so he does not always have to go home alone.
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