In all the rooms with
darkened wallpaper,
By all the beds in
which I've ever slept,
in all the towns I
couldn't settle down in,
To this day no
inhabitant knows my name.
A flock of goats is
wandering on the mountain;
by people and by oceans
leads a track.
A greater homeless one
has led me past them;
I am a child of strange
and alien planets.
A greater nameless one took me by force
away from wonted faces,
lands and cities;
Down avenues I went,
past trees and houses,
into the peace of
sky-blue centuries.
I dwell in the
horizon's silhouettes,
in days and gloamings
and in wind and nights.
Jens Bjørneboe
Translated by Esther
Greenleaf Mürer
(Picture: The Feeling of Becoming, Slavador Dali)
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