ripe apples
a foreign nation's trauma
forced down my throat
modne æbler
en fremmed nations traume
tvunget ned i min hals
slowly the mirrors turn
towards midnight
langsomt drejer spejlene
mod midnat
one foot before the other
I end up agreeing
with the road
én fod foran den anden
jeg ender med at enes
med vejen
acceptance
a waltz in 4/4
accept
en vals i 4/4
I especially like "mirrors" (though consider going with "toward" -- no 's'). And "ripe" is intriguing. Glad to find your blog, Johannes.
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