Exploring you
Translated from Danish by Milton Esman
Exploring you
I chisel me into you and engrave you into me
and build my own monastery in your stoney bedrock.
From me to Al-deyr
traveling along the skeleton coast
to the iron grotto
where the waters of the Timor Sea licks the rough edges
I steal me a little you
and dig for treasures
on your Buccaneer Island.
Tulip fields harvested by hand
while the water pressure on the ice barrier
in your gaze
form hillsides of unseen beauty.
Your body, Tuscaness
from the cold north to impressive egg-shaped grain holders
beneath the eye of Buddha
my fingers carve arabesques on your surface
in the Sturpa
in Bodnath
in the mountains of Goukoui Kongoli
through territories overseas
over high plains volcanic
you are the dominant model.
In glimpses between powerful currents
of non-polluting fuel
an illuminated hot-house
a fourth straight north of the polar circle.
Through salt seas
of the African continent
I duck under the foliage
wildly into the oil-palm plantations
where underwater plants
with a 3500 mile coastline
provides nursing for farmers
I tip my hat past the ox in swamped river valleys
a stranded boat
and the mangrove
ornithological multiplicity.
Later, I rest my head on the shrubbery terraces of Vaux-le-Vicomte
while the earthquake in Izmit
thunders through me and God’s footprint sits deep
on my Frazer Island.
All over Africa
red ibis in flight
and the finest view
of Venetia where I wandered
400 bridges
and smiled at the extreme conditions.
I indulge myself in you
as the Whales of Valdez
and place all bio spherical reserves
on a branch
of the tree of live
this proud acacia
an aphrodisiac.
With the head between my legs
I am the Medusa of Al-Doha
amidst drifting icebergs
in the world’s oldest university
a pole house
a million cartridges of enriched uranium
Yankee Stadium.
At the shores of a seasonal salt lake
I pay my road tax
and wash clothes in your river arm
a pilgrim
amongst hundreds of professionals.
Your natural hot-springs
are laden with prohibitions
and especially destructive
is the Lati Volcano
so I mount
The White Horse of Uffington
sculpted in chalk
nearly unthinkable
with such different layers.
In your abandoned city, I am trapped in water-lilies
creating a massive carpet
a small island dressed in forest
where religious and philosophical principles
and a very meaty diet
are characteristic motives.
When I stand in you
like El Corcovado – Christ on sugar hill
and feel your biological diversity
on the skin an invasion of locusts
from Senegal to Egypt.
Here, the Adam region
this robust animal
and this breeder
like meteoric shrapnel
on new pastures
an aeronautic piece of software
in the name of the famous benefactor.
I cross your enormous basins
and a road blocked by sand dunes
filtered through wind in a thousand years
the agile tongue finds narrow passage
and slips in with the changing tide.
Now I live like the Philippine gold-diggers
close to the vein
of my gold hole
exploring the longest coral formation of your earth
visiting a small rural market
climbing the palms and sitting
on your little stonewalls
intoxicate myself on your nectar
as the hummingbird of Nazca
and sail your inner waters
in a tiny boat of kapok.