Featured Poem

From ‘Ókunna Kunna Þér Runna

there are dead in countries
who will never know how
little I despised them
I wanted the penblade
not the bootsplatter trenchlife
the night I ran      there was
sky concealing thunder
a white feather of moon


the words give heavy page
the words bleed out of me
bullstrong        I like to think
of guns     the sound of rain
Hemingway’s forearm thick
as tree root       men are dead
who never wondered what
I thought       or why       or not


I am deadheavydrunk
sharpen penblade       moonglint
now think of Hemingway
swallowing a shotgun
now think of bulls         enraged
now think of men who can’t
be men without dying
of rain of Thanes of Harr

» Comment on this translation 0 comment(s)

» Read notes
About the translation:
Egill Skallagrímsson
Andrew McMillan
Original language:
2015 Number 1 - SOLD OUT - Scorched Glass

About the author

Original poet

Egill Skallagrímsson

EGILL SKALLAGRÍMSSON was a tenth-century Icelandic poet composing in an oral, pre-Christian context. He is one of the most not...

» Read more


Andrew McMillan

ANDREW MCMILLAN’s debut collection, physical, will be published by Jonathan Cape in August 2015.

» Read more


No Comments


Browse poems

By original language »

By issue of MPT »

Go Digital

Subscribe to the digital edition of MPT for access to all back issues and to the Exactly app.» View free trial issue

Back to top
Supported by Arts Council England

Copyright © Modern Poetry in Translation and contributors
Website design ashbydesign
Developed by Code Frontiers
Powered by Storemill