Saturday, December 10, 2011

Tea and Transtromer



Tired of all who come with words, words but no language
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer's hooves in the snow.
Language but no words.


-Tomas Transtromer's From March '79

5 comments:

L. Blogspeak, M.D. said...

An intriguing idea to separate words from language.
So prints in the snow might say as much or more than our finest orators.
What a terrific poem.

cha sen said...

The poem resonates with me too, even in translation.

Rebekah said...

Still wie Pfoten....

cha sen said...

Pfoten is irresistible!

ana dane said...

such a lovely image. thank you for sharing it.