National Insecurity Poem by Tomas Tranströmer
National Insecurity
The Under Secretary leans forward and draws an X
and her ear-drops dangle like swords of Damocles.
As a mottled butterfly is invisible against the ground
so the demon merges with the opened newspaper.
A helmet worn by no one has taken power.
The mother-turtle flees flying under the water.
translated by Robin Fulton
'New and Collected Poems', 1997, Bloodaxe Books
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/18/2024 5:39:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
