Another poem by Nordbrandt, this time from 'Offshore Wind'

BEHIND THE DIKE

A little into March summer suddenly

seems all too close:

One evening evening just goes on.

The darkness can’t put out

the white houses in the lyme grass on the dike.

Past and future are each other’s hostages.

The ransom money glitters

in the offshore wind on the far horizon

where no one can come.

So my travels resist

and erase the languages

where I for a while was me.

In all the world I have finally

always stayed at home.