Merry Christmas. Here is another poem by Tomas Transtromer.
FURTHER IN
It's the main highway leading in,
the sun soon down.
Traffic backs up, creeps along,
it's a torpid glittering dragon.
I am a scale on that dragon.
The red sun all at once
blazes in my windshield,
pouring in,
and makes me transparent.
Some writing shows
up inside me--words
written with invisible ink
appearing when the paper
is held over a fire.
I know that I have to go far away,
straight through the city, out
the other side, then step out
and walk a long time in the woods.
Walk in the tracks of the badger.
Growing hard to see, nearly dark.
Stones lie about on the moss.
One of these stones is precious.
It can change everything.
It can make the darkness shine.
It's the light switch for the whole country.
Everything depends on it.
Look at it . . . touch it . . .
Tomas Transformer
Translated by Robert Bly
I have an urge to pick up stones that "can make the darkness shine". They grace my
gnome garden. For instance - a magical reddish stone with light stripes from the banks of the
Thelon River - and many more.
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