Mor
Jeg har ropt på min egen mor
Sorgen river meg i stykker
skjærer med jern i ryggen
klorer opp brystet
Og der
hvor han var i ni måneder
akkurat der har en smertestein lagt seg
Den skulle jeg fått føde
fram
Men veene mine
borer steinen rundt
i meg, djupere i meg
Blir man vant
går det an
å bære på smertens stein
som et foster?
Søvnen spjæres
av mine egne skrik
Dag og natt går i ett
Drømmene tvinner seg inn i dagens strev
Dagens strev i alt som trykker
Og jeg spør meg selv:
Var jeg samme mennesket
før dette?
Jeg har ropt på min egen mor
og hennes mor
og mormors mor
Jeg har bedt om råd
spurt hva jeg skal gjøre
når de glemte å fortelle
hva man gjør
når dette skjer
Er jeg her
regnes jeg lenger med?
Jeg har gått på besøk
gått i butikker
rørt ved folks blikk
Mange
mange har stanset opp
fortalt meg at jeg fremdeles finnes!
Translations of this Poem
The Mother
Translator: Kenneth Steven
I have called on my own mother
Grief tears me in pieces
cuts with iron into my back
rips up my breast
And there
where he was for nine months
right there a stone of pain has been laid
That I should give birth to
produce
But my sorrows
cut the stone round
into me, deeper into me
Does one get accustomed
it is possible
to carry the stone of pain
like an unborn?
My sleep is torn
by my own screams
Day and night become one
Dreams become tangled with daily toil
That toil in everything that burdens
And I ask myself:
Was I the same person
before this?
I have called on my own mother
and her mother
and grandmother’s mother
I have begged for guidance
asked what I should do
when they forgot to say
what one does
when this happens
Am I here
do I still count?
I have paid calls
gone into shops
attracted people’s attention
Many
many have stopped
told me I am still here!
About this poem
‘Northern Light’, the Scottish Poetry Library event at the Edinburgh International Festival Fringe in 2000, featured readings by Rauni Magga Lukkari in Sami and Norwegian with translations read by Gerda Stevenson, in Norwegian by Rune Christiansen and in Gaelic by Aonghas MacNeacail.
The Royal Norwegian Consulate supported the commissioning of translations for the occasion by Kenneth C. Steven.