(no subject)

'Tis the month when everything is so green it hurts to look at and I'm thinking about a poem by Werner Aspenström (half-assedly translated by yours truly):

THE CITY (1964)

I am not an apolitical person.
I have an opinion about how things
should be done in this country.
I consider peace to be our greatest thought.
But I do not wish to use the great dream's scissor
to cut the smaller dream's weave.
It is the time of day
when the towboat Rex embarks into the archipelago
to fetch the sunrise.
It is the time of year
when the giant on Skinnarvik Mountain
wears clusters of lilacs in his hair.
Soon he will open his maw and spit out
a swarm of seagulls over the city.
I think it is beautiful, simply put.
I think it is human, sometimes.