Graat billede
Fiskerbaades tøk paa
havet i det graa.
Disse taageuldne vidder,
bløde.
Hvor de holder op, ved ingen,
graa.
Er det ikke dem, vi kender?
Var det ikke der, vi var?
paa den store doventblanke diseflade,
hvor de hule tøk blev kvalt
i graat!
Grey picture
The chugging of the fishing boats on
the sea in the greyness.
These fog-blanketed expanses,
soft.
Where they cease, no one knows,
grey.
Aren’t they what we recognise?
Wasn’t it there we were?
on the vast lazily-gleaming misty surface,
where the hollow chugging is smothered
in grey!
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