Long Live Love
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:I love you as one loves certain obscure things,secretly, between the shadow […]
Category Archives: glosa
Her words were avenues
One can still go slowly on skis in the winter sun through brush where a few leaves hang on. They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories. Names swallowed by […]
Simplicity of love
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, […]
Yazidi weeping
Go son, go down to the water And see the women weeping there Then go up into the mountains The men, they are weeping too The desert wind is full […]
Constellations of your breath
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 