Grace Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
Grace
Grace
In Livorno, I touched the wings
of a silky butterfly which had come
to join me at the table.
I had only meant to feel its beauty
but my coarse fingers damaged
delicate wings.
It tried to fly but lost height and
landed in my beer glass; fished it
out but only damaged it more
on an iron table painted summer
green, beside a vase of scented
flowers a fragile life ended.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/1/2024 2:08:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
