I was one of the two
on the bridge
when first we heard it:
I watched, Edvard,
your hand poised
before your elongated face,
attention riveted
on the mouth open
to scream:
the landscape
distorted as in a dream
all anyone sees
hears
is the scream
two figures
shaken into silence:
I, one of the two
(on the bridge)
no one remembers
having seen at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem