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