Mother of Tenderness
Mary, I live in a corner of the world,
where the metro rocks in at the last station:
the concrete walls up estrangement.
Today I am reminded of it,
in a room with Spanish rhythms;
the meringe cake and the coffee:
A secret, bright and heavy:
you will bear the King of glory.
The chestnuts snow kisses on the asphalt;
pierced – they are like the eyes on the wall:
Mother of Tenderness,
there our longing journeys
through drowsed starry skies
in two gondolas.
Pyramids in paradise (Skosnöret, 2012)