When They Sleep - Rolf Jacobsen

 All people are children when they sleep.
There's no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in the quiet rhythm heaven has given them.
They pucker their lips like small children

and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.
If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
- God, teach me the language of sleep.

Rolf Jacobsen

from: Night Music: Selected Poems

Translated by Robert Hardin

With thanks to 
Ivan Granger
at Poetry Chaikhana

~

Photo - Dear Hubby :)