For reasons that had entirely to do with curiosity and intuition, I purchased a copy of Olav Hauge’s Selected Poems. Born in 1908, a Norwegian like many of my ancestors, Hauge made his living off the apples he grew on his acre orchard. He also writes – oh, can he write! – and translates other poets into Norwegian from their native French, English and German.
This poem offers a glimpse into both his skill as a poet and as an observer of life.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and will consider purchasing his books.
Weights*
Are you off on the space-trip
or are you
one of those weights
that stay on the ground and say
that’ll never get up.
There’s nothing to be done with weights.
They stand there.
You can weigh them, they’ll
say nothing to that.
But they’ll stand there
just as unyielding, just as cold.
They’re the ones who know
how heavy things are.
*Translated by Robin Fulton and published by White Pine Press, Fredonia, N.Y.
This poem offers a glimpse into both his skill as a poet and as an observer of life.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and will consider purchasing his books.
Weights*
Are you off on the space-trip
or are you
one of those weights
that stay on the ground and say
that’ll never get up.
There’s nothing to be done with weights.
They stand there.
You can weigh them, they’ll
say nothing to that.
But they’ll stand there
just as unyielding, just as cold.
They’re the ones who know
how heavy things are.
*Translated by Robin Fulton and published by White Pine Press, Fredonia, N.Y.