The world is dreamt by a sleeping god,
and the dawn's shiverings moir‚ his soul.
The memories of things that happened yesterday,
before the world was there,
haunt, glint.
That in whose being we have no part
meets us where the way bends,
it breathes a horror that is not ours,
from the limits far away,
from worlds with other laws.
Sleep, sleep heavier, slumberer,
until the dream torments you no more,
or waken to the day, creator,
and make us real!

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.