THE WIND TURNS THE PAGES Poem by Lars Gustafsson
THE WIND TURNS THE PAGES
Late summer, the time of year
that suits my age.
And the slow,
one might almost say,
the patient, waves
only go in with hesitation
and hide
in the small dark cavities
under the stones of the shores.
It is best
to bail out our boats
only when it is really necessary.
A simple wisdom, this.
And not unlike this one:
To read the future,
the unfinished text,
only when it is really necessary.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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3/10/2026 5:36:47 PM # 1.0.0
