Poems by Aase Berg
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Djuphavsfiskar
De kommer hasande utan synfält från en dunkel radie De kanske har en liten liten hjärna med tre endorfiner i som kickar in ibland Då fortplantar de sig rätt så håglöst Inga nyheter Inga strömmar Samma väder Ingen Carpe Diem För det finns ingen dag Det finns inget Bara Vara Det finns bara Vänta Ibland hamnar högre organismer där och blir tillbakabildade Börjar äta svavel och liknar ingenting Gränsen mellan mindfulness och mindlessness är lika tunn som känselsprötet Deep-Sea Fishes They come slithering without vision out of a murky place They maybe have tiny little brains with three endorphins that sometimes kick in causing them to reproduce quite heedlessly No news No currents Same weather No Carpe Diem Because there is no day There is no Just Be There is only Wait When higher organisms sometimes end up there they devolve Begin to eat sulfur and look like nothing The border between mindfulness and mindlessness is as thin as an antennae Slamdamm Slöbökar i dustet, utandning rör upp brunslammet ur bottensatsen Ingenting lyser, ingenting syns. Ändå ser jag allt. Ingenting känns. Du kan sticka din hand rakt igenom mig Sludge Pond Mucking around in the dregs, my breaths stir up brownsludge from the sediment. Nothing glows, nothing is visible. Yet I see everything. Feel nothing. You can stick your hand straight through me. |
Aase Berg is a poet and literary critic born in Stockholm 1967. She concentrates on profound contemporary politics, nature and psychology in her sharp, dark and weird writing, with images and language that dissolves the difference between human, animal and machine. She has published eight collections of poetry, a youth novel, a book of essays and three novels. Her books are translated into several languages. Her latest collection of poetry, Aase’s Death translated by Johannes Göransson will soon be published in English.
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