Monday, 27 April 2020

Werner Aspenström: 'Drömmen om den store tärningen av is'

THE DREAM OF THE LARGE CUBE OF ICE

Not only isolated farms but whole villages,
yes, a royal residence with city hall and cathedral
lay frozen inside the large ice-cube.
I shall be slow to forget that dream.
Visible but sealed off everyday life went on inside there.
Sounds that otherwise carry far and wide,
the howling of chained dogs out in the country,
the shrieks and laughter from schoolyards and funfairs in the city,
thudding pile-drivers… None of it was heard.
A whistle in his mouth, a ticket-collector went
from carriage to carriage, slamming the doors behind him.
Slowly, as in the silent film era, the train started to move.
Unaffected by the ice quiet fires burned.
Otherwise it can sound like pistol shots
when bonfires suddenly crackle and sparks leap out.
What surprised me most was the absolute clarity.
Scratched and uneven were the window panes
I had seen until then.
The misting from our desire obscures what we see

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