Thursday, May 26, 2011

2 poems with yellow by harry martinson (and two lines that kill me)


far from here:

i want to send a dream far from here.
the swallows fly high there.
perhaps your wheat ripens
and through the yellow oceans of rye
a slow humming sound of bread can be heard.

this is a world of water and stones,
my hand is without bread and i count its lines.


beach murmurs:

something black and hard
grabs something yellow.
is it a barrette holding thick, beautiful hair together?
no, it is an anchor, half-buried in the sand on the coast of Lister.

there are footprints everywhere.
they disappear into the sea.
the winds divide your heart,
the wind of the ocean and the moor's mountain everlastings.
as evening comes, for someone longing
the sunset in the west is the sun's own westward journey.

longing stretches the self
into winding ribbons around the earth.

longing is derived from long, length and a long time.
longing is that which is lengthened.
where are you yourself?
after the waves have roamed with you?


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