I walk up to a secret door which is open. Of course I go in. Sneak out of the everyday, transform it, curse it or sing its praises. Sometimes I think this is wonderful, sometimes awful, and everything in between. Gradually I have grown dependent on this insistent wonder.

WORDS THAT ARE BORN

Some words are born

(literally
speaking)

small and weak.

Some scream.

Yet others
are calm and quiet
but prove to be
on closer inspection
shy
and even afraid
that people will
laugh at them.

Others
are self assured
and are eager to
appear in poems -

convinced
that their shape
or flavour -
will move
poetry lovers.

Some words are born
under cruel
conditions.

Others are born without effort
yet hit the bull's eye.

Words are born
when hearts beat
in sync –

or
when hearts
are blown

to pieces

and blood
seeps
from wounds

In other words:

When the unbearable
has the upper hand.

The poet's
un-poetic
pain

carefully
draped in words

bundled up
in modernity -

painted both poetically
and abstract ...

(Because anyone who knows
the comfort of poems
will not throw them
overboard.)

Sometimes
words gather
in poems

so sincere
and serious

that many
regard them as
silly.

I don't know ...

Generally
people enjoy
words.

And many say:
(from a pure
love of words)

Sincerity
is all you need

Silly
nilly
words.

Glorious
silly nilly words.

Margrét Lóa Jónsdóttir, 2004.

Translated by Vera Júlíusdóttir.