Tomas Tranströmer Poems
|1.||The Blue House||10/8/2015|
|4.||From the Island, 1860||5/21/2016|
|5.||From the Snowmelt of '66||5/21/2016|
|11.||The Half-Finished Heaven||5/21/2016|
|12.||November In The Former Ddr||10/7/2011|
|16.||The Indoors Is Endless||10/7/2011|
|17.||After A Death||10/7/2011|
Comments about Tomas Tranströmer
After A Death
Once there was a shock
that left behind a long, shimmering comet tail.
It keeps us inside. It makes the TV pictures snowy.
It settles in cold drops on the telephone wires.
One can still go slowly on skis in the winter sun
through brush where a few leaves hang on.
They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories.
Names swallowed by the cold.
It is still beautiful to hear the heart beat
but often the shadow seems more real than the body.
The samurai looks insignificant
beside his armor of black dragon scales.
translated by Robert Bly
The Under Secretary leans forward and draws an X
and her ear-drops dangle like swords of Damocles.
As a mottled butterfly is invisible against the ground
so the demon merges with the opened newspaper.
A helmet worn by no one has taken power.
The mother-turtle flees flying under the water.