Alone
One evening in February I came near to dying here.
My name, my girls, my job
The approaching traffic had huge lights.
You could almost pause
Then something caught: a helping grain of sand
Then – stillness. I sat back in my seat-belt
II
I have been walking for a long time
In other parts of the world
To be always visible – to live
The murmuring rises and falls
I must be alone
Everyone is queuing at everyone's door.
Many.
One.
Tomas Tranströmer
Translated from the Swedish by Robin Fulton
The car skidded sideways on the ice,out
on the wrong side of the road.The approaching cars–
their lights – closed in.
broke free and were left silently behind
further and further away.I was anonymous
like a boy in a playground surrounded by enemies.
They shone on me while I pulled at the wheel
in a transparent terror that floated like egg white.
The seconds grew – there was space in them–
they grew as big as hospital buildings.
and breathe out for a while
before being crushed.
or a wonderful gust of wind. The car broke free
and scuttled smartly right over the road.
A post shot up and cracked – a sharp clang – it
flew away in the darkness.
and saw someone coming through the whirling snow
to see what had become of me.
on the frozen Östergötland fields.
I have not seen a single person.
there are people who are born, live and die
in a perpetual crowd.
in a swarm of eyes –
a special expression must develop.
Face coated with clay.
while they divide up among themselves
the sky, the shadows, the sand grains.
ten minutes in the morning
and ten minutes in the evening.
– Without a programme.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Alone By Tomas Tranströmer
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