Leif Robertsson
LIFE, ASITAPPEARS
©2025Leif Robertsson
Cover:Leif Robertsson
Förlag:BoD BooksonDemand,Östermalmstorg1,11442Stockholm,bod@bod.se
Tryck: LibriPlureos GmbH,Friedensallee 273, 22763 Hamburg, Tyskland
ISBN:978-91-8097-038-9
In thegloomyforest lives asickgod.
In thedarkforestthe flowersare so pale andthe birdssoshy.
Whyisthe wind full of warningwhispers andthe road dark with gloomy forebodings?
In theshadowliesthe sick god anddreamsevildreams.
Edit Södergran (translatedfromSwedish with Google translate)
Trying to achieve some wisdom formymind'scomfort, soft as themoon’sreflection over darkeningwaters.
Amongthe market traders, Iseek thefruit from thetreeofknowledge. Sourly sweet, redand true.
With increasing amount of tricklingsaliva, Isingthe praise of learning. Knowledgeburdens onlythose wholackit.
Theinvitation makesmenervous. Eeleatingparties aren't my thing. Trying to fitin. It'snot goingsowell. Iwould have rather stayed by thewater.
Arowboat split thewater surface with silent oars.
Thepike-perch glared sourly in thereeds andyoungsters satonthe shore shylyflirting. Ididn'tget to see allofthis. My eyes were
completely empty. No tears. Just theempty flower of longing.
Just heardfrom infinity.
Laika is no longer alive. MaybeI shouldtakea course or do some time travels.
Is it so or so?
So much misery. So much destruction. So much to do.
Agiftfromnowhere. Neitherpaper norstrings. Thesongsounds likesomething from theabandoned.
Discord from broken devices. Inolonger remember thelunar lander.