Monday 22 October 2012

Poem by the Swedish writer
Göran Sonnevi



Still there is clear, sharp light

Still there is clear, sharp light
April-spring’s
light
Still the sky is being stretched, pale, gleaming
The earth dry, granulous
after the snow
Touch its brittle surface
with the fingers of the
imagination
It is cold    Being stretched
within me is a new rhythm
that is far beyond all destruction
For a long time
I have been living among gleaming shadows
in a mother of Hades    A wing
breaks out
A leaf, an
oar
Everything is already white
Everything is already delight
The heart of the deep sun
The ache within the heart    The breathing
in, in
The sun’s oarstrokes
The quivering water
It is still cold
Still nothing has opened
Still nothing has died
Everything wakes up so slowly
So slowly that we are
almost dying
Come with me, out
An oar-blade stratches your forehead
A sparkling writing of stars
And is
the deep voice of humanity
All language dies out
All language dies so slowly
We will die out completely
            Also in the ultimate task
We write in the language of the stars
which is not the language of a human

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