Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2011 v10n1
TOMAS TRANSTRÖMER
translation by Patty Crane

April and Silence

Spring lies forsaken.
The velvet-dark ditch
crawls by my side
without reflections.

The only thing that shines
are yellow flowers.

I am cradled in my shadow
like a fiddle
in its black case.

The only thing I want to say
glimmers out of reach
like the silver
at the pawnbroker’s.  end