Open and Closed Space

With his work, as with a glove, a man feels the universe.
At noon he rests a while, and lays the gloves aside on a shelf.
There they suddenly start growing, grow huge
and make the whole house dark from inside.

The darkened house is out in the April winds.
“Amnesty,” the grass whispers, “amnesty.”
A boy runs along with an invisible string that goes right up into the sky.
There his wild dream of the future flies like a kite, bigger than his town.

Farther to the north, you see from a hill the blue matting of fire trees
on which the shadows of the clouds
do not move.
No, they are moving.
…………………………………………………………

Tomas Transtromer (born 1931)