Poem by the Swedish writer Lars Gustafsson

The lamp

 Before the lamp was lit

we sat completely still

A crow’s rasping voice

and a sudden scent of clover

with a sweetish warmth

through this rising dark.

Water, completely still.

The earth, it too tranquil.

The bird flew

as close as it could

over its own shadow

And the bumblebee, faithful

friend of many summers,

crashed against the window pane

as if it were the wall of the world

And the dive dapper

flew from lake to lake

It could be late

or early

in various lives

it could be in a butterfly’s shadow

In the shadow of any life.