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DEATH’S BEAUTIFUL FACE

Long is the wait, constant the look lost in the sea, confused by imagination and the uncertainty of ever seeing her again,.

She emerged from the bottom of the sea from among seaweeds and pearls,

Her face beautiful as the dawn between snow covered mountains.

Wrapped in white silk tatters, virtually transparent, allowing to see clearly what they try to cover. Cold an uneasy was her look, her eyes as white as snow, and with her arms in the air, she emerged from the sea lifted by waterjets surrounding her.

In her hand an axe from the seas, of viking warriors from ancient times.

Long and white was her hair tangled by the stream,

Pushed by the sea as if she was it’s queen

The queen of the Trondheim sea.

Now I can only wait for her return, and as days go by,

Unable to explain, what on a snowy winter night

I saw or believed to see, in her hand an axe from the seas, of viking warriors from ancient times.

Long and white was her hair tangled by the stream,

Pushed by the sea as if she was it’s queen

The queen of the Trondheim sea.

Now I can only wait for her return, and as days go by,

Here I remain, sitting on this rock, my imagination flowing,

Unable to explain, what, on a snowy winter night,

I saw or believed to see.