Christmas House
On the second day of Christmas
we left the white house
which had enveloped us.
Ice-crisp evenings
we waited for the train;
the black, shining giant
that took us away
from Christmas.
The lights from the house
winked safely laughing
in white window-frames,
peacefully,
always the same.
Our fingers were freezing,
and we stared enthralled
towards the house
where Christmas dwelt,
not wanting to go away,
wishing to stay there
in Christmas
forever.
Translated from Norwegian by the author of the poem,
Åse Lilleskare Faugstad
poem by Aase Faugstad
Added by Poetry Lover
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