Many voices speak.
Yours like water calls,.
Yours is like rain,
when through the night it falls.
Softly purls
in a fumbling dive,
slowly, hesitantly,
torturedly alive.
Trickles and strains,
trembling like a ground,
towards my skin,
behind every sound,
wraps itself softly,
closes me in,
fills my ears, whispering
memory's refrain.
I don't want to sit silent
where I can't come near you.
I want to dwell and live
where I can hear you.
Many voices speak.
Through them all
I hear only yours
like the night rain fall.

Translated into English by David McDuff in "Karin Boye: Complete poems".

Swedish original

Copyright © 2005:
Translation from Swedish into English: David McDuff

Published with the permission of:
David McDuff, translation.
May and Hans Mehlin, Layout.

For more information, please visit the website of David McDuff and his own pages with the translations.