#8 Ingibjörg Haraldsdóttir (1942-)
The Head of a Woman
…………………………………..The head of a man is heavy
…………………………………. - Sigfús Daðason
The head of a woman is not heavy
The head of a woman is a
…………………………..snowwhite
…………………………..downy
…………………………..wisp
The head of a woman sails
over bright-blue sunday-skies
and laughs
.
.
.
The head of a woman?
Bathed in tears
sweat
blood
Rushing
through a dark night
With no
hope of
resurrection?
.
.
.
Flying through the night
the head of a woman lost its bearings
and its way – but the sun
carried on regardless
accustomed to the wiggling laughters of
tulips
and moths
.
.
.
While the head of a woman
is not heavy
it’s nevertheless often
hard to hold
not to mention
the face
.
.
.
Some days
the woman
would take her head
off a pedestal
and keep it
between her legs
for a while
.
.
.
Sugar-white
head on a clothesline
flutters in the breeze
eyes closed
hair
long and smooth
coiled around the clothesline
- the sun shines in a clear sky
.
.
.
The head of a woman will dance
in Klambratún-park tonight
under an inebriated moon
and half-naked trees
accompanied
by the composers of autumn
waddling
pecking
shrieking
composers of autumn
.
.
.
Surely — yes
surely
it would be better
– in sensitive moments –
to be allowed to rest
one’s weary nape
in rugged hands
to not always have to
drive it back
stiff
hard
stubborn
Surely
Sometimes
.
.
.
In her head the woman still keeps
the din of days that passed
in euphoric dreams and died
so woefully later
The ships still sail through seas of night
and meet, crawl silently
out of darkened fogs
and meet
Ingibjörg Haraldsdóttir
………..Translation: Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl
………..Posted on the occasion of International Women’s Day, March 8, 2009.