BE
LONGING
   



      




   


  









Excerpt from my great grandfather,

Hans Lynge’s, poem from 1933, Kipilerneq.

My Greenlandic heritage has made for

my interest and acknowledgement of what I call

the North Atlantic longing.

It is quite distinct, a nostalgia towards the homeland

quite outspoken in comparison to

how I experience my own and others’ homesickness. 


KIPILERNEQ / LÆNGSEL / LONGING







Ila artorpara naalliunneq nipaatsoq

Isigernanni allat malunnaallisaartoq

Misiginnitoqanngilaq naami uannut

Ajapinngilaq aamma ikinngut tuinnut




Jeg prøver at lade som ingenting.

Med følelsernes blødende sår i mig

går jeg i smug blandt andre.

Ingen af dem lægger en hånd

på min skulder

som en medfølende ven

for at trøste mig.




I try to pretend like nothing is wrong.

With my feeling’s bleeding wounds inside me

I walk hidden amongst others.

No one puts a hand

on my shoulder

as a compassionate friend

to comfort me.






Mark

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