Author of quotes: Tumas Transtromer

Tired anyone with words, words but not speech
I went on lying under the snow island.
Wild nature is without words.
Niepisanie page is stretched in all directions!
Came across traces of deer in the snow.
Speech but no words.

Death sometimes comes in the Meridian of life, need to take your measurements. You forgot, don't remember who came to live as you lived before. But the dress, then sewed.

A butcher becomes a threat.
The burning sky is rolled into a roll.
From chamber to chamber you can hear the knocks
and space comes out of the permafrost.
Some of the stones glow like the full moon.

On the street - summer is coming soon.
In the bushes someone whistling, the man or the bird?
And cherry blossoms caress the branches
returned the truck.
As the weeks pass.
Slowly the night falls.
On the window sit moths:
tiny white telegrams on the planet.

From home life I couldn't extract any lessons. Special scandals did not happen, no performances, no screaming father.

You always feel younger than their years. I kept my old faces like tree - rings. This is the sum of what is "mine". The mirror reflects only my latest face, I know your all the same.

Time is not a straight line, rather a labyrinth, and if in the right place your ear pressed to the wall, you can hear hurried steps and voices can be heard on the other side of himself, passing by.

The school had a choleric divas who could the main part of the lesson to devote to the erection of the tower of hysterical indignation, all in order for there to pour out the Cup of his anger.

I lie in bed, arms outstretched.
I am the anchor, which is buried how to
holds a huge shadow, it floats up there,
the great unknown, part of which is myself and which is probably more important than me.

I - the gutter for impressions.

The truth here on the earth,
but no one dares to raise it.
The truth lying in the street.
But no one itself takes.

In the early hours of day consciousness can embrace the world
compresses the palm as the sun heated stone.

Awakening is a parachute jump from the dream.

I - an old tree with withered leaves, which still hangs and can not fall to the ground.