The Owls | The Sorrow Gondola by Tomas Transtromer

A Page from the Nightbook By Tomas Tranströmer One night in May I stepped ashorethrough a cool moonlightwhere the grass and flowers were graybut smelled green. I drifted the slopein the colorblind nightwhile white stonessignaled to the moon. In a perioda few minutes longand fifty-eight years wide. And behind mebeyond the lead-shimmering waterlay the other…