Nocturnal Conversations

Elisabeth Rynell

Something of light
I cannot describe
Maybe love's hands
Your skin like a drink
I don't know

I wake into the nightmare
and I walk inside it
It is real, material
and I walk and walk

You left your dead
body behind you

And we stood and looked at it

And we did not know
what we should do with it

my eyes sting   I am tired   but
why should people sleep?  the
tears I have already wept
burn like acid   I must weep
some more        
                        a Russian lunatic
bellows on the phonograph   his madness
is consoling
as if life nonetheless were something real
and everything that hurts made of conceivable
matter   fixed and lasting
also my despair
I am not stingy   I pour
more wine in the glass
and the Russian vocalizes in his vehement voice
this is one of my nights
and there will be many
inconceivably many

When I see a star
in the darkness
and contemplate how
long ago it existed
I think
of you
Give me
a sign
I'm waiting

translated from the Swedish by Rika Lesser

Translation Copyright © by Rika Lesser.
Used by permission of the author.