“The ugliest thing in the world
is the truth.
Who doesn’t want to die
like May rain over the lilacs,
like wild carrots in a ditch?
Only fanatics don’t know
that they know this.
I fly through the January night,
low over a snow-covered Europe,
cathedral after cathedral
casting its light out onto the snow:
Never have I seen
never so clearly.”
is the truth.
Who doesn’t want to die
like May rain over the lilacs,
like wild carrots in a ditch?
Only fanatics don’t know
that they know this.
I fly through the January night,
low over a snow-covered Europe,
cathedral after cathedral
casting its light out onto the snow:
Never have I seen
never so clearly.”
| — | Henrik Nordbrandt, "Cathedral," trans. Patrick Phillips, from The American Poetry Review (Vol. 39, No. 4, July/August 2010) |
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten