Jan Erik Vold

XII / As the Window Pane Speeds By

from Twelve Meditations

Translated from the Norwegian by Jan Erik Vold

the world

turns a blank page. Golden leaves

in

the parks, a fresh dash

down the

gravel walk – out of breath

you stop

behind the next corner, to watch

the policeman

rush

in the

wrong direction.

why is there a pale

moon

in

the sky, when the autumn sun

is still shining? Do we need

two? Do we

need to be reminded of

darkness to come, cluster bombs

exploding

200 yards above the earth, slashing

all living

flesh?

all living flesh that can

will hide

in caves. How many mouths can be fed

by one

cluster?

Can peace be won

by carpet

bombing? Can

food bombing a people

make them

swap

ancestors?

when the freighters arrive

with artificial

limbs

the onelegged

can get up

and leave. The sky was a lake

in navy

blue. He who shoves

his boat from the shore, will soon

be

rowing

in a CNN report.

so

much

depends

upon. So much

depends

up

on. So

much depends upon

how

the

splinters

fly.

the ethiopians defended themselves

with pickaxes and

pitchforks. This happened in 1935, against

Mussolini’s

tanks. Whoever wants to capture

a mountain

will need

compassion

deep as a mountain. To be a hawk

is not enough. You also

have to

be a mole.

the ocean

is a sky

turned

upside down. No more

bleeding. Now it’s

leaking

up into the air. The blood gathers

into a body called

hatred. Also called

sorrow. Also

called impermanence. A body

that collects skulls.

this body

has not been drugged. This

blood is not

blue. This flesh

is invisible. The autumn sky

tips over

into the scarlet

of afternoon. A silver plane

is drawing a strip

from the east

to the west. The few mackerel clouds

shiver.

a

bullet, taken from the heart

of the

victim and returned

to the muzzle

of the

gun – oh no, God

does not

rewind

the

movie. Neither does Allah.

graffiti

on concrete

walls, their screams

seem merely silly. Despite

all the catchy

letters. God is an arrow

we aim

at the sun. Crush

me! says

the sun, like a

window plane. Then the shadow

devours the train.

English language copyright ©2002, 2004 by Jan Erik Vold and Gyldendal Norsk Forlag.

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Jan Erik Vold was born in Oslo in 1939. He studied language and literature at the universities of Oslo, Uppsala and Santa Barbara in the 1960's. He is a leading Norwegian poet and a well-known translator of European and American literature. As a literary critic and editor Jan Erik Vold has paved the way for a deeper understanding of modernist literature in Norway. During the past decades he has published many new editions of Scandinavian authors, mainly Norwegian poets. Vold’s editions, which represent outstanding philological research and editorial work, are and will be of central importance for the study of modern Scandinavian literature. His work represents an important critical contribution to the renewal of the Norwegian literary canon. Through his many stimulating essays, and as a public voice, Jan Erik Vold has given new vitality to the Norwegian discourse on literature and culture, and has thus initiated new interest in contemporary literature amongst a broader public.