Om jeg bare var en ydmyk vannpytt da soeilet jeg himmelen...--- If I was just a humble puddle then I was soooiling the heaven... --- Wenn nur ich ein bescheidener Pfütze, wenn soeilet ich den Himmel ... --- Si seulement j'étais humble flaque d'eau quand soeilet ciel I ... --- Si tan sólo era un humilde charco cuando soeilet que el cielo ...

I'm going to wrinkle this word,
twist it,
yes,
it's too smooth,
as if the tongue
of a big mouth or a big river's 
water
had washed it
for years and years.

I want to see
roughness in the word,
ironlike salt,
earth's
toothless strength,
the blood
of those who spoke out
and those who didn't.

I want to see thirst
deep in its syllabls.
I want to touch fire
in the sound.
I want to feel
the LOVE
the darkness of a scream.
I want rough words
like virginal stones.

It's raining today...