They want to say something

I blipped a Tomas Tranströmer poem a few weeks ago, and mentioned that I'd need to seek out some more ...

... well, managed to find this 'New Collected Poems' (2011 Edition), as translated from the Swedish, by Robin Fulton :-)

Here's a poem from within:


Deep in Europe

I am a dark hull floating between two lock-gates
rest in the hotel bed while the city around me wakens.
The silent clamor and the gray light stream in
and raise me slowly to the next level: the morning.

Overheard horizon. They want to say something, the dead.
They smoke but don't eat, they don't breathe but they keep their voice.
I'll be hurrying back through the streets as one of them.
The blackened cathedral, heavy as a moon causes ebb and flow.

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Tomas Tranströmer (1931 - 2015)

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