The Half-Finished Heaven
Cowardice breaks off on its path.
Anguish breaks off on its path.
The vulture breaks off in its flight.
The eager light runs into the open,
even the ghosts take a drink.
And our paintings see the air,
red beasts of the ice-age studios.
Everything starts to look around.
We go out in the sun by hundreds.
Every person is a half-open door
leading to a room for everyone.
The endless field under us.
Water glitters between the trees.
The lake is a window into the earth.
The Nobel Prize in Literature 2011 was awarded to Tomas Tranströmer “because, through his condensed, translucent images, he gives us fresh access to reality”.
I’m not entirely clear why this award fills me with such elation. I think David Orr said something like this prize brings honor to the Nobel Committee which has so often not acted honorably in awarding its prizes. It feels something like arriving safely home after a long descent from the mountain top in the darkness. And then, there’s a light. Mr. Transtromer shines on us all.
Thanks for a very quiet post – old man – the half-finished heaven – young man. Simply great!
And thank you for stopping by, Madhav.
Do you know Tranströmer’s poetry? It has a way of making anything any of us say, about almost anything, seem beside the point.