The beautiful world

Farfar. 

Minns du alla de tunga regndropparna? Snälla, säg att du minns.

Låter du mig det återberätta?

 

Full av löften, alla om himmelen.

Du fyllde atomer, gav liv åt himlakropparna.

 

Himmelen som du ståtligt lovade mig.

Du lyfte atomer, du stannade livet.

 

Under dina viskande träd, förskonad.

De viskar till mig att du fortfarande är här.

Precis så som jag vill vara, vilsen och bortglömd i ditt landskap.

 

Att jag får vara barn igen i väntan på att livet ska oss nå.

På att regndropparna ska så tiden som blev stulen.

 

Bara för att slutligen slita oss ifrån varandra.

Regndroppar.

 

Grandfather. 

Do you remember all the heavy raindrops? Please, say that you do.

Let me retell it, will you?

 

Full of promises, all about heaven.

You filled the atoms, brought life to the orbits.

 

The heavens above that you so grandly promised me.

You carried the atoms, you made life still.

 

Beneath your trees of whispering, in mercy.

They are whispering to me that you are still here.

Just how I want to be, lost and forgotten in your scenery.

 

For me to be a child again waiting for life to reach us.

For the raindrops to sow the time that was stolen.

 

Only to ultimately tear us apart.

Raindrops.

Insight at distance./Uppenbarelse på avstånd.

 She’s crossing the street.

All the clichés are in place.

The ones not worth mentioning.  

(The music, the wind, the subtle smile.)

And you can tell she’s not alone tonight.

She’s never alone.

You can tell she has a way about her.

 

She doesn’t have to look as she crosses the small street.

The world is watching her.

And what I wouldn’t do to be her.

 

 

Hon korsar gatan.

Alla klichéer är på plats.

De som inte är värda att nämna.

(Musiken, vinden, det subtila leende.)

Och man vet, hon är inte ensam i natt.

Hon är aldrig ensam.

Och, du vet, hon har det där sättet över sig.

 

Hon behöver inte titta när hon korsar den lilla gatan.

Världen iakttar henne.

Och vad skulle jag inte göra för att vara hon.  

The truth.

And as all the inspiration is returning.

And as the drugs wear off.

–          I’m dying for a dialog.

All that nonsense in me.

All that non coherent, all that is useless.

–          Is in a need of dialog.

And as you beg me to talk to you all I can think is:

How do I translate this into words?

After you.

No, you first.

 Letting the boundaries fall.  

Letting it out and improvising from here on.  

Letting the edges bleed. Sadly waiting.  

Coloring our haze, letting life grow in the shades.  

Letting myself be flattered by your graceful lies.  

And digging my own grave at your disposal.    

And so far from here, you are forgetting all about me.  

While I am falling deeper into our fumes.

Another Sunday Night.

Standing. Looking down.

At the edge of life…

Trying not to waste away during those last trembling hours.

Fighting against frivolous time.

Wrestling against daunting sleep.

Knowing there is no going back from this cliff.

Taking a deep breath to last me throughout the week.

Ser mig

Bara en igenkännande blick.

Bara en sekund av tidlöshet.

När nätterna sakta ruttnar.

Och isen hastigt sväller.

En sekund då du ser mig.

Då du, Verkligen, ser mig.

From a daughter.

From all the depth of my soul.

From all those places that can never be illuminated.

Down to the bottom of places where I can not breathe.

Into water so very known to me.

Into that darkness that I fear so.

Below the surface that I can not interpret.

From the bottomless pit of all your love, you light up my darkest place.

You tell me there is nothing to fear.

You convince me into diving.

You persuade me to break the threatening surface.

Holding tight.

Holding tight.

On to the empty space between us.

Letting the world pass us by.

Turning our backs on  each other.

Looking for answers elsewhere.

Reminding us.

Nothing could ever fix this.

Nothing could ever heal this.

And suddenly it is too late.

Rooms

With the tide suddenly changing. We fall.

In our ignorance we search for refuge.

In rooms beneath water we look for shelter.

And as our haven turned in to my prison, it

turned into a place where I couldn’t breathe.

But down in those murky rooms filled with anxiety, I fund you.

My first great love. And all that I wouldn’t do to defend and glorify you.

Not recognizing everybody’s despair. 

Suddenly here,  I am, alone despite your presence.

Why did you reveal me, reveal all that?

All that was suppose to disappear into forgetting.

I am naked, and broken, and I confess to you that this is pain. This is pain.

I fought of the invaders.

Justice

Finally we killed each other.

All the beautiful silence that drove us to it,

is now shattered.

Lying here on the floor covered in blood,

we finally got our revenge.

And justice has been served.