… it has been raining for days and it is chilly – I work with to make a poetry collection of my earlier poems and in between I have translated into English one of my poems from December 2010. And I have written a haiku about this never-ending spring rain …
Rain in May
spring rain pouring down,
grass grows high and broken dreams
Regn i maj
gräs gror och brutna drömmar
It will always be a Monday again
(from December 2010)
It always returns to the same –
it will always be a Monday again.
Weeks trots on like old, enslaved
horses. Home to stable. Home to
stable. Back to this tepid waiting
for nothing. My empty rooms.
The lack has a hard throbbing
pulse, same as passionate life.
I enchanted myself to believe!
Foolish? And was it really real
what recently occurred?
Did it happen at all?
Without all my dreary routines,
I would be zero now and maybe
I know a little more what I want,
but if that would be a consolation,
consolation is the last I want! It’s
Monday again and I move on, to
nothing or something. I know
I walk out in the winter and I see
sun breaking through the clouds.
The snow embrace the landscape
and it crunches under my feet. I
keep an eye on the icy spots. If
I close my eyes I can see you –
your bare belly.