World Literature:
Stefan Hordur Grimmson
(Iceland)
When Under a Crescent Moon (Poem)
When under a crescent moon
the breeze blows through dead foliage
you will be my rose.
When the fingertips of sadness
heavily weight on the red string
you will be my smile.
Translation: Thór Stefánsson
Translation: Germain Droogenbroodt
