A book of poems by Kristín Ómarsdóttir and art by Anna Hallin and Ósk Vilhjálmsdóttir. The poems are both in Icelandic and English, translated by Bernard Scudder.
From In and Out the Window:
I was driving back from a family outing
at two in the morning in a borrowed car
in late july, early august
when I looked to both sides and noticed
that they'd forgotten to switch off the waterfalls
The roads were smooth and gentle.
A slight haze from a powder box over the meadows.
A car chased me, doing a hundred and forty kilometres
an hour in the stillness, black-coloured
carrying the following message with it:
hi, I might come tonight, bye.
I went on, went driving on in the stillness
the waterfalls switched on.
_________
my heart already seems to be in
a vax museum
I try to wake it, revive it
but it sleeps softly
in a comfortable or familiar casket
tut, don't wake me, don't wake me
says my heart at the vax museum
don't wake me
or is it in an incumbator for newly born babies?
tut, don't ask me, I don't know
aw, aw, little heart, how tough for you
maybe I'll give it pin soup to eat
tomorrow
