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When They Sleep by Rolf Jacobsen

All people are children when they sleep.
there’s no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in that quiet rhythm heaven has given them.
They pucker their lips like small children
and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.
If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
– God, teach me the language of sleep.

[HT: DeAnn English version by Robert Hedin]

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • Howard Nelsone October 23, 2017, 6:20 AM

    I dream of my puppy dog and of Mom and Dad
    and the ice cream that they bought for all the kids after the game was over.
    They explained that it wasn’t for the winners or losers, just for the players, just for the fun of it.
    Lil, my littleler sister had some ice cream too, and Fierce, our puppy, had his favorite cracker treat.