Sunday, December 16, 2018


It's the Dream

It's the dream we carry

that something wondrous will happen,

that it must happen —

that time will open

that doors will open

that the mountain will open

that springs will gush forth —

that the dream itself will open,

that one fine morning we'll drift

into a harbor we didn't know was there.


If you can make a poem

a farmer finds useful,

you should be happy.

A blacksmith you can never figure out.

The worst to please is a carpenter.

I Have Three Poems

I have three poems,

he said.

who counts poems?

Emily tossed hers

in a trunk,I

doubt if she counted them,

she simply opened another tea bag

and wrote a new one.

That was right. A good poem

should smell of tea.

Or of raw earth and freshly cut wood.


Olav H. Hauge
from At the Great Door of Morning / Robert Hedin
translated by Robert Hedin
Copper Canyon, 2017