When I Go Blind

Love makes blind —
and every single day as the blind man
shuffles along with his cane
traffic comes to a complete stop
while God's angels ascend and descend —
and the eye specialist closes his clinic.

Love makes blind, but sex is harmless;
there's nothing wrong with my eyesight
I can see everything.

That's why my love poems are such failures.
Eyes closed I whisper into the phone
and outside the train station the blind man stands,
a holy evangelist
humming in the rain
— crippled by love.

The new lovers kiss each other's fingertips
I do know that.

Translation P.K. Brask
© Niels Hav