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Svenskaback TOMAS TRANSTRÖMER
translation from Swedish by Patty Crane
The Black Mountains
Around the next curve the bus emerged from the mountain’s cold shadow,
turned its nose into the sun and crawled uphill roaring.
We were crammed on the bus. The dictator’s bust was also there,
wrapped in newspaper. A bottle was passed from mouth to mouth.
Death’s birthmark grew at a different speed in everyone.
High in the mountains, the blue sea caught up with the sky. 
Contributor’s notes: Tomas Tranströmer
Contributor’s notes: Patty Crane
After a Long Drought
The Black Mountains
The Boat—The Village
From Winter 1947
Funchal
Homeward