My Island – Jan Oskar Hansen

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The island has a river, behind the river a dark forest sings
when the wind blows around the mountain.

I once climbed up to its summit in the hope of seeing the mainland,

dreamt of escaping my confinement,

but the glittering sea blinded me.
A Sunday I saw nuns rowing in the bay,

they stopped lifted up and rested the oars,

I saw drops, as priceless pearls,
dripping back into the green sea.

Mist came and obscured them.

I also saw their boat as a shimmer above water.
The nuns were never found,

a statue to honour them was erected.

Every year a bishop comes and blesses the inlet.

He knows as I do, a wish had been fulfilled.

He cannot speak of this; nor can I.

And as always the dark forest sings when
the wind blows around the mountain.

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