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Poetry

Mountain Hike

By Gyrðir Elíasson
Translated from Icelandic by Meg Matich

The tallest mountain on Mars is 24 kilometers high
and I have climbed it in my dreams. I remember
the view from the peak: magnificent;
the blue planet swam in the half-twilight of evening.
I seem to remember Louis Armstrong was with
me, no, Lance Armstrong, no it was
Neil Armstrong, I mean. When I
awoke I was still in hiking boots
caked with red clay, which I
scraped off the soles and rolled into a tiny moon.

English

The tallest mountain on Mars is 24 kilometers high
and I have climbed it in my dreams. I remember
the view from the peak: magnificent;
the blue planet swam in the half-twilight of evening.
I seem to remember Louis Armstrong was with
me, no, Lance Armstrong, no it was
Neil Armstrong, I mean. When I
awoke I was still in hiking boots
caked with red clay, which I
scraped off the soles and rolled into a tiny moon.

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