Now the deer fever tears apart cells inside my ravaged, already
so harrowed leather body. In my breath, tracks of moon wind
are smarting against the throat and windpipe. I have moved
around the deer, I have fastened my fibers to the hard dancing
deer. Steam rose from frozen wells, ice floes chafed the channel,
cold sweat broke out of the skin wall between my being and
the cold. It was a hopelessly treacherous time.
I have moved around the rare glass deer of September. I have
moved around the timid water, by the closed border of the fiber
deer. And the crack rushes through the black glass. It crackles
and shimmers, it quakes in the deer, it quakes and quivers
in the breastbone deer.
The leather falcon flies north in sky-shrieking torture. There
is a light in the deer, there is a light in the deer, there
is a light deep inside the cavity deer! Now the blood surface
song surface is heaving! It quakes through me and the deer.
Fibers ache in my sharp border. Now the painful deer tears
now it breaks. Now the deer and I burst and are exposed -
Translated from the Swedish
by Johannes Goransson