The Carpet by Olav H. Hauge & Robert Hedin

I often wish for the imagination my five year old has; anything can become another object at whim. It’s not that I no longer have imagination, or that the world isn’t really magical anymore. The magic is there and will always be, and I aim to retrain myself to see it. This week’s poem by Olav H. Hauge takes me there.


Photo Courtesy Brian Landis

The Carpet

by Olav H. Hauge
Translated from the Norwegian by Robert Hedin

Weave me a carpet, Bodil,
weave it with visions and dreams,
weave it out of wind.
So I, like a Bedouin, can
roll it out when I pray,
wrap it around me
when I sleep,
and every morning call out:
The table is set!
Weave it for
a cape
against the cold,
as a sail
for my boat!
One day I’ll sit down on the carpet,
and sail away
to another world.


Teppet

by Olav H. Hauge

Vev meg eit teppet, Bodil,
vev det av syner og draumar,
vev det av vind—
Slik at eg, som beduinen, kan
breida det ut når eg bed,
sveipa det um meg
når eg søv,
og kvar morgon ropa:
Bord duka er!
Vev det til
ei kappe
i kulden,
til eit segl
på min båt!
–Ein dag skal eg setja meg på teppet
og sigla burt på det
til ei onnor verd.


Toast is a weekly email newsletter and yearly printed anthology.

Subscribe to get Toast sent to your email

  • Glenna Luschei, Abiding Publisher and Editor Emeritus
  • Benjamin Daniel Lawless, Editor in Chief
  • Tom Harrington, International Editor
  • Rena Ferro, Managing Editor