Out in the Open
/The forest in this season is a silent palace of abandoned rooms. /Only a few, precise sounds: as if someone were lifting twigs with tweezers; /as if, inside each tree-trunk, a hinge was creaking quietly.
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The forest in this season is a silent palace of abandoned rooms. /Only a few, precise sounds: as if someone were lifting twigs with tweezers; /as if, inside each tree-trunk, a hinge was creaking quietly.
Read Morea poem by Tomas Tranströmer, translated by Robin Robertson
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