August

	Do you still recall the fall. 
	When August is almost over.
	When summer still breathes its final breaths.
	May be today, may be tomorrow, may be tomorrow….. 
 
Summer times get so intense here up North.
Dusk chases daylight and meet, before sunrise.
Apples are bowing and loaded with fruit.
Heathers get darkened by berries.
Sunlight has nourished the tiniest straw.
Young birds are testing their feathers and flying skills.
Soon they will leave for the winter.

	Geese are gathering, geese are gathering.
	Wild geese shall gather and form their plows.
	Form their plows, fly their plows, fly their plows…

Crowns of the trees still hang heavy with leaves.
Nevertheless we know: fall is approaching now.
Weakening sun makes the roses more red.
Bumblebees buzz in the garden.
Slowly the summer is turning away 
Bats chasing moths in the darkening evenings  
Stars start to light up at mid night.

	Sun’s sinking down, sun’s sinking down. 
	Sun sinks into the ocean.
	Sun sinks into a sea of blood, a sea of blood, 
	into our old blood, into our old blood…

Rottening seaweeds wash up at the shore.
Jellyfish float and glow, brighter than roses now.
Down at the bottom all drowned ferments, 
to be transformed into new life.
Slowly the surface is lifting in swells,
lazy as lions that slumber in evenings,
gathering strength for the slaughter. 
	
	

		
	Tekst og tone: Harald Asheim, august 2003
	Til engelsk ved Olaug Areklett og Harald Asheim, mars 2007

Øy-hopping på Nordvestlandet: badet fra Håholmen  på Hustadvika kl. 11 om kvelden 
og 7 om morgenen. Vatnet var lunka og blåklart. Digre, rødgule brennmaneter svevde 
rundt med lange trådslep etter seg. De lyste opp på lang avstand. Slikt kan bare ikkje 
vare. Like etter Sunndalsøra kom styrtregn og over Dovre la det seg tett skodde. 
Slik tok sommeren slutt.