translation by Patty Crane
The Light Streams In
Outside the window is spring’s long animal,
the diaphanous dragon of sunshine
flowing past like an endless
commuter train—we never managed to see its head.
The seaside villas scuttle sideways
and are as proud as crabs.
The sun causes the statues to blink.
The raging conflagration out in space
is transforming into a caress.
The countdown has begun.
Contributor’s notes: Tomas Tranströmer
Contributor’s notes: Patty Crane
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