When an old man lies ill, all his bygone days come
and sit gently in a ring around his bed.
They don't complain, they do not cry or sob.
They nod slowly and think of old things.
And each of them tells his never forgotten story,
and each of them has a candle and lights it quietly.
They are reflected clearly in the dark rivers' water.
He goes, goes beneath vaults, beneath arches of quivering

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.