Fredagsdiktet: There is a girl inside

Lucille Clifton, altså! Snakker om tøff, kul og talentfull dame. Hun døde for to år siden, 73 år gammel. Heldigvis etterlot hun seg en enorm arv, i form av alle de fabelaktige diktene. Jeg har skrevet om henne før, hun har vært i fredagsdiktet hele tre ganger. Men det er ingen grunn til å sette strek der, så her kommer enda et Clifton-dikt.


There is a girl inside

There is a girl inside.
She is randy as a wolf.
She will not walk away and leave these bones
to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.
She is a green girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom

and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the damn wonder of it.

(Lucille Clifton)