- Posted March 7, 2009 by Mark Viewed 559 times
See the grey tree. The sky has run
through it's fibers, into the ground -
only a shrunken sky is left when
the earth has drunk. Stolen space
twisted into a wicker of roots, twined
into greenery - The short moments
of freedom rise out of us, whirl
through the blood of the parcae and onward.
Tomas Tranströmer - Sammanhang
(In my own clumsy translation)
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