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A Metal Bird

A metal bird makes one last turn
as the final rays of a setting star
glance over its wings
disappearing into the soft milkiness
as light as a lovers’ first kiss
leaving behind a glowing belt of pink.

The night has arrived.
And so have I.


Translating a poem from a language I do not speak

I had the opportunity to translate a poem for one of my projects (FireFlies). To be fair, we formulated the project in a way that created this opportunity. I adore writing little rhymes and poems myself and wished to try translating the work of others.

The only obstacle was that the original poem was in Old Dutch and I was very far from being proficient in Dutch. In fact, I only knew a couple of elementary words, such as please and thank you and how to ask for a marshmallow.