Rolf Jacobsen, Norwegian, born 1907
My soul is hard as stone. I slept with the wind.
He’s an unfaithful lover. Now he’s with someone else.
He hummed words, prattled in my ear
and stroked my hair. I gave him all my whiteness.
I let him chisel dreams in my soul–of clouds,
fierce seas, and soft flowery hills.
Now I see, cold, it was them he loved.
Where is he now? Tonight my heart froze.