Skip to main content
Outdated Browser

For the best experience using our website, we recommend upgrading your browser to a newer version or switching to a supported browser.

More Information

Poetry

from “Everything Shimmers”

By Naja Marie Aidt
Translated from Danish by Susanna Nied
Danish poet Naja Aidt blends nature and myth in this freewheeling ode to a child.
Blue morning glories on a yellow background
Morning Glories by Suzuki Kiitsu. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Seymour Fund, 1954.
Listen in original language
 
 

Then suddenly beech woods, all green behind the dozing eyes
a deer leaps across the forest road
scents of acid and moss and cheek against bark, sunrain
between trunks, I’m home and hear the Baltic Sea
crash against big rocks far away and I rest like a
fairy or a witch in the sweet smells of the forest floor
we can so easily forget what we are who we are
that we are, but it takes only a little call
to waken the sleepers, as now, in the forest, for
LISTEN, isn’t that song and the chiming of goblets
sounding in the green chambers? YES by golly, a celebration
for the child in his seventeenth year, who never has
been happier and never will be happier; the world shimmers
everything unimaginably possible while a handspring
and a new but not disturbing sensitivity have settled
in the middle of his irresistibly marzipanescent
body.

From Alting Blinker. © Naja Marie Aidt. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2015 by Susanna Nied. All rights reserved.

English Danish (Original)

Then suddenly beech woods, all green behind the dozing eyes
a deer leaps across the forest road
scents of acid and moss and cheek against bark, sunrain
between trunks, I’m home and hear the Baltic Sea
crash against big rocks far away and I rest like a
fairy or a witch in the sweet smells of the forest floor
we can so easily forget what we are who we are
that we are, but it takes only a little call
to waken the sleepers, as now, in the forest, for
LISTEN, isn’t that song and the chiming of goblets
sounding in the green chambers? YES by golly, a celebration
for the child in his seventeenth year, who never has
been happier and never will be happier; the world shimmers
everything unimaginably possible while a handspring
and a new but not disturbing sensitivity have settled
in the middle of his irresistibly marzipanescent
body.

From Alting Blinker. © Naja Marie Aidt. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2015 by Susanna Nied. All rights reserved.

Alting blinker

Så pludselig bøgeskov, helt grønt bag de blundende øjne
en hind springer over den stampede jordvej
her lugter af syre og mos og kinden mod bark, solregn
mellem stammer, jeg er hjemme og hører Østersøen
slå mod store sten langt borte er jeg hvilende som en
fe eller en heks i skovbundens dufte
vi kan så let glemme at vi er dem vi er
at vi er, men der skal bare et lille signal til
at vække den slumrende, som nu, i skoven, for
HØR NU er det ikke sang og bægerklang
der lyder i de grønne sale? JO, et gilde sørme
for barnet i sit syttende år, der aldrig har
haft det bedre og aldrig får det bedre; verden blinker
alting ufatteligt muligt mens et kraftspring
og en ny men ikke forstyrrende følsomhed har slået sig ned
midt i den uimodståeligt marcipanemmende
krop.

Read Next

The covers of the 10 books longlisted for the 2022 National Book Award in Translation