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She peeks out at us through the darkness. Letters drift through the picture. In the background is a review of the poem “These many larks” by Per Højholt (1966). The paradox of a review being just as poetic as the poetry itself:
“It is spring!
After having slept all winter I awake.
The larks are arriving by the dozen!
The winter now flows
in ditches and graves,
it disappears, the sun is shining,
a car drives up and down the dodgy road,
alongside the pine trees,
there are splashes,
it is wonderful, and now I feel refreshed”.
The review (in Danish) is found here.
