Friday 8 May 2020

Werner Aspenström: 'Hästen'


The thunder rolls and rumbles on over Hälsingland’s forests,
a flash of lightning strikes now here now there,
and kills in passing a dappled horse
that no stable-boy rides on any longer and no one recalls
and no one mourns – except the spring
in which it used to dip its warm muzzle
and stir among the stars that have lodged in eternity
high over Hälsingland’s forests.

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