My Skin Is Full Of Butterflies
My skin is full of butterflies, of fluttering wings -
they flit out over the meadow and delight in their honey
and flit home and die in small sad spasms,
and not one grain of pollen is disturbed by light feet.
For them the sun is hot, immeasurable, older than time
But under skin and blood and inside marrow
captured sea-eagles move heavily heavily,
spread-winged, never releasing their prey.
How confused would they be, once, in the sea's spring
How would they cry, when the sun fired white-hot its
Closed is the cave! Closed is the cave!
And between the claws writhe white like young roots
my innermost fibres.
Translated into English
by Jenny Nunn in "To a friend".
Copyright © 1997:
Translation from Swedish into English: Jenny Nunn
Published with the permission of:
Jenny Nunn, translation.
May and Hans Mehlin, Layout.