here are 2 different translations of another tomas transtromer poem.
Face to Face
In February life stood still. In February living stood still.
The birds refused to fly and the soul The birds flew unwillingly and the soul
grated against the landscape as a boat chafed against the landscape as a boat
chafes against the jetty where it's moored. chafes against the pier it lies moored to.
The trees were turned away. The snow's depth The trees stood with their backs turned to me.
measured by the stubble poking through. The deep snow was measured with dead straws.
The footprints grew old out on the ice-crust. The footprints grew old out on the crust.
Under a tarpaulin, language was being broken down. Under a tarpaulin language pined.
Suddenly, something approaches the window. One day something came to the window.
I stop working and look up. Work was dropped, I looked up.
The colours blaze. Everything turns around. The colors flared. Everything turned around.
The earth and I spring at each other. The earth and I sprang toward each other.
-Robin Robertson -Robin Fulton
