25/9 [Ready?] Poem by Morten Søndergaard

25/9
Ready? Each word is another word.
Each tongue another tongue. From now on face is 'snow'.
One is friends with one's toes. A sentence to get hold of.
Hold up. Giddy-up.
My white horses. As a child I played the mouth organ
and regularly rode off into the sunset.
I set. Sorry: I said, I'm Lucky Luke. The palefaces of words
turn among the birch trunks.
Face ought to be face.
Step by step.
So and so many steps. Shanks's pony.

Translation Barbara Haveland