translation by Patty Crane
Haiku Poems
I
The high-tension lines
taut in cold’s brittle kingdom
north of all music.
~
The white sun, training
alone, runs the long distance
to death’s blue mountains.
~
We need to exist
with the finely printed grass
and cellar-laughter.
~
The sun lies low now.
Our shadows are goliaths.
Soon shadow is all.
II
The orchid blossoms.
Oil tankers are gliding past.
And the moon is full.
III
Medieval fortress,
a foreign city, cold sphinx,
empty arenas.
~
Then the leaves whispered:
a wild boar plays the organ.
And the bells all rang.
~
And the night streams in
from east to west, traveling
in time with the moon.
IV
A dragonfly pair
fastened to one another
went flickering past.
~
The presence of God.
In the tunnel of birdsong
a locked door opens.
~
Oak trees and the moon.
Light and mute constellations.
And the frigid sea.
Contributor’s notes: Tomas Tranströmer
Contributor’s notes: Patty Crane
Sorrow Gondola (Sorgegondolen) Introduction & Suite Contents
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