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Linda Vilhjálms

Linda Vilhjálmsdóttir (b. 1958) is a poet, novelist, playwright and screenwriter. Her first collection, Bláþráður (Hanging by a Thread) was published in 1990, followed by Klakabörnin (The Children of Ice) in 1992. In 2003 she published a semi-autobiographical novel: Lygasaga (Story of Lies). Her plays have been staged at the Reykjavik City Theatre as well as other venues, and she has received two literary awards from the daily newspaper DV, the Jón-úr-Vör Poety Award and the Icelandic Booksellers’ Prize for the best volume of poetry in 2015, among others. The volume frelsi (liberty) was also nominated for the Nordic Council's Literature Prize (2017).


sometimes I feel

like herring in a barrel


and sometimes

like the quota value of cod









sometimes

like a laying hen on an inorganic farm


and sometimes

like a breeding sow with bedsores









sometimes

like a sterile salmon in a sea-pen


and sometimes
like a Polish construction worker from an employment agency









sometimes
like restricted offshore accounts


and sometimes

like a deficit in bankruptcy









sometimes
like a lost algae ball


and sometimes

like a broken emergency shutter in a sewage plant










sometimes
like a secretary on the immigration appeals committee


and sometimes

like a subpar cod castoff









sometimes
like a guide on the Northern Lights bus


and sometimes
like a tourist caught in Reynisfjara’s undertow









sometimes
like a silver fox in a cage


and sometimes

like a senior on the nursing home’s wait list









sometimes

like a turbine in a geothermal plant


and sometimes

like a woman in a care profession









and sometimes
like a rapist on probation


always

like a girl child on the way back in the dark




IV


before half a century has passed

the fingers and strong chins

of our mothers


will stand

like guides or guardians

up out of the melting glaciers


~









I see my four great-grandmothers

wander the country at the end of life

with all of their children


those they bore

those they lost

and those they had to let go


~









in parish records geneaologies

censuses, they’re said to be

foundlings maidservants invalids

housewives and widows


condemned to unrecorded enslavement

all as one


~




Translated by Meg Matich who is an Iceland-based poet and translator. She has received support for her work from organizations like the DAAD, the Icelandic Literature Centre, PEN, and the Fulbright Commission, and has worked closely with UNESCO in Iceland and Ukraine. Among other works, she is the translator of Cold Moons (2017 Phoneme Media/Deep Vellum) by Magnús Sigurðsson and Magma (2021 Grove Atlantic [US], Picador [UK]) by Þóra Hjörleifsdóttir.

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