Iona
Else Boog

You are calling me so strongly
with the entire strength of your beautiful being,
with your appearance, continual changing,
with all your rockeries, so solid and earthly,
with all these hills and valleys, rolling
so velvet green, so friendly

You are calling me
with all your different voices.
Just making such various noises.
Changing from happiness to sadness;
from light-footed and lovely to heaviness and melancholy;
to sleepiness and dreamy
into strong and energetic vitality
How great is your diversity!
Sometimes you seem to be violent and angry.
Is this because of mortification, because of pain?
Andx are your tears coming by rain?

You are calling me
by the weather that changes so quickly;
freedom was shown by this change, everlasting.
From cleary and sunny
to cloudy and rainy.
The smell of the sea, so saltish,
brought to me by the wind.
The wind who is there for ever and ever
And whose presence I really love so much.

Yes, you are calling me
with your natural beauty, so simple and pure.
The flowers are as gems on your "robe,"
such as the tiny, small primrose
with her delicate yellow-pale face
hidden in moss on the grey-greenish rocks.

You make me just singing
because of this beauty, it is too much.
It seems that my heart is just bursting,
my senses can have no more, no more.
Feeling the spindrift of the waves.
I can cry out from happiness, so strong,
as the water flies up to the rockeries and me.
Yes, there is much, so much to enjoy
there is no place for more.
I just feel at home
really at home.
And my being becomes just
listening
feeling

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