Kristian Guttesen, b. 1974, is the author of 7 poetry books in Icelandic, having published his first book in 1995. He was nominated for The 2007 Icelandic Translation Prize, for a translation of the norwegian novel The Hill (n. Skråninga, by Carl-Frode Tiller), and is currently studying philosophy at The University of Iceland.

Published work
 
Ghosts, 1995
Shadow Poems, 1998
Anno, 1999
Porcupine, 2003,
Protest Through Participation, 2004
Pityriasis Versicolor, 2005
The Hill, 2006 (transl.)
Crime Poems, 2007

by Kristian Guttesen
translations by Jane Appleton

 CRIME NUMBER NINE

I have been called a thief and robbie
rotten head these scumbags say my poems
are malignant and accuse me of baseless
strikes on intelligent beings

do you know what this would incur?

somewhere in the night lies a dying poet
whose poems kill themselves

sorrow dwells in the softness of your
eyes we shouldn’t say goodbye like this

I become a thug in order to be able to survive as
a poet and declare war on the
fraternity

my brother the murderer after
you lie down beside me and catch your breath I
am transfixed and stare perhaps somewhere into
the hellish darkness

              that which remains of life advances
an instant again and while you murder me
woeful I think sorrow dwells in the softness
of your eyes we shouldn’t say goodbye like this

 
 ESSE EST PERCIPI

              Winds
                  we saw
                      quiet
                  we go

Winds launch to flight …
plunge to water
once raged
nuclear war here on Earth

It’s long since we saw each other …
              esse est percipi
I am a monk
brother
              I am a father

Journey over quiet lakes …
I see her in a green room
try to describe for her
these two worlds we know

Wherever we go
these three outcomes
which could have been
which each happened …

The stillborn foetus
the girl who lived
the girl who was murdered

              like three streaks in the pitch black
night sky

Winds launch to flight
it’s long since we saw each other
journey over quiet lakes
wherever we go

 
 THE UNICORN

Do you want me to believe in faraway
clairvoyants today?
It is so much easier to
sell me Christ.
I can gain an understanding of a higher
being independent of whether it exists.
Everything that is an object of our
mind:

              Perceptions,
              sensations,
              appearances –
              (or something like that)

You say that what’s in the middle
of our mind, is what we can
understand.

We’re not really aware of anything else.

Do you want me to sell you
my name today?
It’s for sale but you need
oodles of you know what.

I am a unicorn,
composed of idea and perception.
A response to
what you forced on me.

What about this pain then?

I like to be raped.