Mother
I have a mother in a blue coat.
She takes my hand, I am
small I am afraid, she
leads me.
Her coat is
sewn with stars.
The snow is so high
here when we walk in the Milky Way
where no snow is cleared: She
and I.
Time
Time comes on to the stage
now. Stands a little at first
and hesitates, looks closely
at the doorplate in the house (a backdrop there on the stage) to make sure
it is the right place, rings
and I open: Then
the Time is in.
The stage curtain
falls, it shines of moon and stardust trickles
from the curtain, which is the universe´s glowing ground
the curtain glides up again
and there stands the eternal clown:
holds a shrieking newborn baby
on the stage
while Time bows down
for applause. Then
the Time is out.
Old Lady at
the Airport
She walks like a bird, flows
forward with small jerks
through the departure hall.
Her name is Hanna, she has a
body
almost without weight.
She is on her way to the exit gate, she stared
with her milk-blue bird´s eyes so weakened
by cataracts at a bright screen
where it read "Gate A12"
and it is Hanna who is coming now, with her light
jerks in this airport, to her Gate A12.
She holds three bags of
plaited raffia in her claws.
She has put her things there,
there was so little she took with her on this journey,
small gifts an a local paper.
Her hair is white bird´s
feathers,
her mouth a beak,
and her back is finely bent
like an impression of an arc
on the lower ski slope where Hanna cane at dizzying speed
towards childhood´s ski jump
beside the barn at home, a jump
that in Hanna´s thoughts now twists slowly
up towards the stars
after the last
endless glide.
But her back
is bent in an arc towards the earth
where she scuttles like a bird
towards the exit where the plane
waits for her on the other side
of the corridor where the door will soon be opened
and Hanna soon will fly:
And her body, bent down to the
earth, will take off
towards sky and stars.
(Translated
into English by Brian McNeil)
small I am afraid, she
leads me.
sewn with stars.
The snow is so high
here when we walk in the Milky Way
where no snow is cleared: She
and I.
and hesitates, looks closely
at the doorplate in the house (a backdrop there on the stage) to make sure
it is the right place, rings
the Time is in.
falls, it shines of moon and stardust trickles
from the curtain, which is the universe´s glowing ground
and there stands the eternal clown:
holds a shrieking newborn baby
on the stage
while Time bows down
for applause. Then
through the departure hall.
almost without weight.
She is on her way to the exit gate, she stared
with her milk-blue bird´s eyes so weakened
by cataracts at a bright screen
where it read "Gate A12"
and it is Hanna who is coming now, with her light
jerks in this airport, to her Gate A12.
She has put her things there,
there was so little she took with her on this journey,
small gifts an a local paper.
her mouth a beak,
and her back is finely bent
like an impression of an arc
on the lower ski slope where Hanna cane at dizzying speed
towards childhood´s ski jump
beside the barn at home, a jump
that in Hanna´s thoughts now twists slowly
up towards the stars
after the last
endless glide.
is bent in an arc towards the earth
where she scuttles like a bird
towards the exit where the plane
waits for her on the other side
of the corridor where the door will soon be opened
and Hanna soon will fly:
towards sky and stars.
(Photo by Anna-Julia Granberg)
