Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Eighth sonnet of the 40-sonnet cycle by the Swedish poet Erik Lindegren


the tired tree cannot lift itself from the blood
and irresolution cannot raise its branches

false simplicity cannot speak the truth
and scourges itself in vain into a witness of blood

the precious stones tempt with the dried-up river-bed of oblivion
but the path to life passes through a different desert

where alone with the sun I recall the world
and comrade Orestes who cannot speak for sand

where alone with the woman I forget the sun
and its tired trees in the fiery cave

its scorched eyes that waken towards evening
when the desert freezes in spring’s mourning-band coat

when the invisible drama takes up its position in the wings
and in the silent desert a sea of humanity swells

To see the whole cycle, go to here

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