by Gösta
Ågren
The Future Is...
The future is unfurnished
as if it were a room
in place of an idea,
but your plans are ready
and you start work,
as to begin with fate is
so light that we don’t notice
the burden. The inevitable
needs no emphasis.
July. Night.
July. Night.
The road doesn’t release
its grip on the car.
Driving is only
rhythm. The journey
moves slowly through
the summer night, which is
white with now. Sadness
heals sorrow.
from Centralsång (2013)
translated from Finland-Swedish by David McDuff
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