Efter någons död

After Someone’s Death:

Once there was a shock

that left behind a long, pale, shimmering comet’s tail.

It shelters us. It makes the TV images fuzzy.

It settles in cold droplets on the power lines.

You can still shuffle along on skis in the winter sun

through groves where last year’s leaves hang on.

Like pages torn from old telephone books—

all of the names swallowed up by the cold.

It’s still pleasant to feel the heart beating.

But the shadow often seems more real than the body.

The samurai looks insignificant

beside his armor of black dragon scales.

Tomas Tranströmer.