Kismet Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
Kismet
kismet
A strange sound in the village, not an alarm
It went on in short intervals
Perhaps they were tasting something we
We were not a part of.
After some time, the sound went on me
Nerves it frightened me it was
The doom-laden telling of times to come when
Our world is aflame and hurtles through space
And all gold melts.
Ashes to ashes that is the way it goes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:29:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
