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Skagafjörður

I try to be
kind to the children
so they’ll tend my grave
when the time comes
crumble biscuits in the grass
on my birthday
and recite the poem about
the gambolling cows
themselves grown old and grey

All the same I will
know them again
by the heavenly smell of the stable

may they always be fragrant as the Jesus child

Translation of "Skagafjörður." © Gerdur Kristný. By arrangement with the author. Translation copyright 2011 by Victoria Cribb. All rights reserved.