World Literature:
Bengt Berg
(Sweden)
Exile (Poem)
In the foreign city with an incomprehensible language
you are walking along unfamiliar streets;
not even the water of the river
which flows under the stone arch of the bridge
you know not the name of
And there you are, standing
totally alone, in your own shadow
which slowly trickles out onto the asphalt
like a distant melody
from an instrument that is out of tune.
But suddenly
a little bird notices you,
meets your gaze
with its pepper-coloured eyes,
before it disappears into the dawn.
