Excerpts from
The Serpents at Heaven's Gate
By Henrik Nordbrandt
Poem
I promised you a poem
and have since thought of everything I could
to keep from writing it.
Now the almond trees are in bloom
three years and nine months later
and even in the twilight
and without my glasses I can see
every single white leaf.
But my own writing
I can just barely make out.
Wouldn´t you still have known me
with the glasses on and in the way
I´ve written this poem?
Translated by Thom Satterlee
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