Skiss i oktober
Bogserbåten är
fräknig av rost. Vad gör den här så långt inne i landet?
Den är tung,
slocknad lampa i kylan.
Men träden har
vilda färger. Signaler till andra stranden!
Som om några ville
bli hämtade.
På väg hem ser jag
bläcksvamparna skjuta upp genom gräsmattan.
De är de
hjälpsökande fingrarna på en
som snyftat länge
för sig själv i mörkret där nere.
Vi är jordens.
Sketch in
October
The tow-boat is
freckled with rust. What is it doing here so far inland?
It is a heavy,
doused lamp in the cold.
But the trees have
wild colours. Signals to the far shore!
As if there were
those who would be fetched.
On my way home I
see ink caps pushing up through the lawn.
They are the
help-seeking fingers of one
who has long
sobbed to himself down there in the dark.
We are of the
earth.
1 comment:
I really liked your translation of "Skiss i oktober". Maybe not the most difficult poem to translate but you captured the moments well.
I would like to add a translation of "Sena maj", from same collection "Paths", to my own blog http://poetrywithblues.blogspot.se/. Can you help me?
Kind regards
Roland Lundberg
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