translation to English of “Rosa novemberljus (på dig tänker jag alltid)”

dusky-pink-sky-jt-images nnbb

Pink light in November

It begin to darken as early as three in the afternoon. A shimmering pink light rests over the streets and cars and city buses and houses and people when I take the bike to the Supermarket. But everything tied to the ground seems to reject this beautiful afternoon light, even young parents and their little ones walks silent gloomily staring down at the black asphalt pavement with everyday grey and lightly frozen backs.I think of you. On you I always think.
 The sky has deepened into an intense and amazing pigeon blue when I lock the bike and walk into the mall. I buy foodstuff and a large packet with candles on sale as it is the first Advent Sunday next weekend.
 When I get out on the street again and bikes home it’s fully sunset and the sky flames in stiffened but expressive and improbable colours in bluish red and orange red. The sky is still bright and I don’t realize the darkness at the asphalt, back home I discover I forgot to put on the bike lights. It worries me a bit – to have biked home almost invisible in traffic.
 When I pass the laundry room in the basement I book a new washing time for the next day. And I think while I put my key in the booking board, my choice of men been has empirically viewed not been good. And I think, that’s something to think about! What says I have made a better choice this time? Actually nothing.
 You became so angry for what you thought I said and in anger you refused to listen to me only for to be so glorious offended. It gives me very cold feet. They want to walk away but my heart wants to stay. Angry men should wear warning reflectors. But now I go with my bags up the stairs to my two room’s apartment. It’s already time to start cooking.
 I have my dinner alone as usual in the company of the afternoon news on the radio. It’s pitch black outside my windows, but still far to the night.
 I think of you. On you I always think.
 Love me slow when the night comes, chase away anxiety and worries and thoughts of death and impermanence away, lower me down into the sea of oblivion and give birth to me into a new morning and day where no evil memories exist. Let it all become as we dream.
Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s