Springflod by Pia Tafdrup

The Four Cradles

The cradle idyl,

The blue cradle bobbing silver

Taking down the stars


For the sleeping child

In the cradle idyl

The quilt is a cloud

And the pillow the whitest wing

On sheets of velour

Are printed gentle hymns

In the cradle idyl

The child is wrapped in cotton wool

And shielded from the world

The rattle made of flowers

Emits soothing scents.


This is my translation of the beginning of a poem, The Four Cradles by the Danish poet Pia Tafdrup, written in 1985.

With so much modern UK poetry focussing on struggles, I wanted to find poetry that is about an issue but brings in the natural world. I also want to say thank you to the people in Scandanavia who follow my blog.


About catherinehume

Catherine Hume: Writer, social care worker and a liver of a life less ordinary.
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