Thomas Transtromer

One of my favorite poets, Thomas Transtromer, wins the Nobel Prize for Literature in poetry for 2011.


2am: moonlight.  The train has stopped

out in the middle of the plain.  Far away,

points of light in a town,

flikering coldly at the horizon.

As when someone has fallen into a

dream so deep

he’ll never remember having been there

when he comes back to his room.

As when someone has fallen into an

illness so deep

everything his days were becomes a few

flickering points, a swarm,

cold and tiny on the horizon.

The train is standing quite still,

2am: bright moonlight, few stars.