Gerður Kristný
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
Translated by Victoria Cribb
Page(s) 133
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