What sower strode across the earth,
Which hands sowed
The heart’s seeds of fire?
Like rainbow’s bands they went out from his fists
To the frozen ground, young earth, hot sand
And there shall they sleep
Greedy, and drink up our life
And break it into pieces
For the sake of a sunflower you don’t know
Or a king-thistle or a chrysanthemum.
Come young rain of tears
Come sorrow’s gentle hands.
It is not all so evil as you think.
By Rolf Jacobsen (Solsikke)
Translated by Curt Hopkins