Sunday 28 July 2019

Henrik Nordbrandt: 'Thorns'


Like a thorn I live in this world
     live and die:
Someone bleeds because of me, someone cries
     because of me
one person moves in, another moves out
and another still has his door bashed in, yet another
his skull:
All that I am capable of giving the world
     is the mumbo-jumbo
I am reduced to, stammering and hoarse.

I actually fill the world with mumbo-jumbo
I am actually like the river that dries up
and fills its bed with rubbish and plastic.
I actually greedily fill myself with all sorts of stuff
     and empty myself again.
I actually live in this world.

In that way the world and I are alike:
Both of us are equally inconsiderate.

But I do not change the world, it changes me 
     every second.
I do not love the world and it does not love me.
But the world is better at not loving
     than I am.

When I die, I become part of the world
but until then I resist:

Like a thorn I live in this world
which bleeds and cries continually.
For the rose’s shadow over the sunlit wall
I would gladly give my life, and who in the world knows
     if that is not what I am doing.

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