jan oskar hansen Poems

The Butterfly

In Livorno, Italy, a place few tourists care
to visit, they spoke of the American girl;
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Vanishing summer light

August is coming to end twilight
wraps itself around the olive grove
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January Day.

This winter day I can see the ocean shine from
the coast of Portugal to the Saragossa Sea; and
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Tanka

I couldn’t find the street
Where my lover used to live
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Winner & Loser


Cycling along a pathway in a stony, dry bush
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(Wedding Party)

Sailing down night Seine
Champagne brut and goose liver
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Generations Past.


When I get up in summer nights air in the rooms
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When I walked ashore in Amsterdam, with my
leather suitcase, no less, bought in a shop in
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The surgeon has been to my hospital bed, explaining
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The battle had been bloody, they had been told
to hold the hilltop at all cost, but now as it was
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