Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Translation of a poem by the Danish poet Morten Søndergaard


A herb-garden in the sun,
a summer, at the bottom of the garden
and my grandma among the potatoes,
carrots and parsnips,
how old are you, grandma,
you skin is wrinkled,
not smooth and pliant like the potatoes in the soil,
or the sound of the potatoes
when you throw them into the bucket
and scrub them clean with a broom in the yard,
the water runs out of the bucket into the gravel,
down between the yellow and white stones
which I put into my mouth,
cool stones against the inside of my teeth,
I know their shape and taste,
and the potatoes in the big aluminium saucepan
with dill and salt and butter,
and we come in hot and out of breath,
we sit down on the bench,
we were busy doing something,
something we didn’t know what was,
something that took us places
that could not be seen in advance,
something that struck us with enormous force,
an obvious secret that annihilated us
because our minds wandered for a moment,
your skin is yellow and waxy, grandma,
they’re singing for you and closing the lid
with small silver-plated screws,
you’re to go down into the soil
down to the potatoes.

To see the original poem and hear the poet read it, go to here

1 comment:

rigel said...

Nice post.Music and translation is shown to be a fascinating area to explore, not only for specialized translators as well as for researchers in translation studies, cultural studies, media studies and musicology.I might say that having music translated on Danish translation or in any languages is far good to be one of the samples that beginners on tranlation to be practiced.