Another Lars Gustafsson poem

PLACENTA

Detta oformliga, loberade organ,

som utstötes efter födelsen.

Varken mor eller barn, neutralt,

på samma sätt som det innersta tomrummet

inne i den riktiga sömnlöslheten

är en helt och hållet neutral plats.

Det finns alltid något

som är mellan de vanliga tillstånden,

varken det ena eller det andra.

Till detta Mellan

känner jag en skev vänskap,

en släktskap till och med.

Det har den verkliga världens

stora tomma, uppriktiga ansikte.

PLACENTA

This formless, lobated organ

that is expelled after birth.

Neither mother nor child, neutral,

in the same way the innermost void

within true insomnia

is a completely neutral place.

There always exists something

that is between usual states,

neither the one nor the other.

Towards this Between

I feel a wry friendship,

a kinship even.

It has the real world’s

large vacant, candid face.

It has been drawn to my attention that there already exists a fine translation of this poem by Christopher Middleton. You can find it here. I deliberately avoid looking at other translations before attempting my own. I am convinced that any great work of poetry/music is open to many different interpretations. As long as no mistakes of interpretation are involved, it is my conviction that it is enriching to see/listen to as many versions as possible.