Friday Poem

Sextus Propertius

Sorry it’s taken me so long to answer, the summer passed so quickly.
Are there seasons where you are? Do you walk on sparkling and sharp
rocks? I think of you often. Tragic gestures, sunglasses,
careful deliberate steps . . . You know how it is. How all went wrong,
how stupid, how perhaps the wrong person finally went and died. All
bottoms fall out. All bottoms fall out. “Terrible!” we shouted,
“terrible, fantastic!” Right now when I’m writing it’s October with
snow in the air; saddle, bridle, disinfect wounds, state your ID number
and address, carry out necessary repair work on the south side.
Change to winter tyres. Whatever love is – no one found protection
against it. Are you together now? The clouds float slowly over the
fields, the wind is mild. I’d love to know how it ends. Is your
heart transparent like crystal? When we meet I’ll
ask about those hyacinths.

by Tua Forsström
from Etter att ha tillbringat en natt bland hästar
publisher: Söderström Förlags, Helsinki, 1998
translation: 2009, Stina Katchadourian

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