A May poem by the Swedish poet Tomas Tranströmer

Late May

Apple trees and cherry trees in bloom help the place to float freely

in the lovely grimy May night, a white life-jacket, thoughts fan out wide.

Grass and weeds with silent stubborn wingbeats.

The mailbox gleams calmly, what’s written can’t be taken back.

A mild cool breeze moves through the shirt and gropes for the heart.

Apple trees and cherry trees, they laugh silently at Solomon

they blossom in my tunnel. I am in need of them

not for forgetting but for remembering.