poetry

August is another song I know
that reminds me of the burning bridge
I’m on. It says there’s no way home
but the places I’ve yet to go.
It says I am alone in a way that shows
how good life is, like sunlight on a table
when hope is somewhere near.

From the translation by Bent Sørensen

Posted by poacher in poetry at 13:39 | Comments (0) | Trackbacks (0)