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, […]
Category Archives: glosa
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, […]
The world of today – a glosa
The world is a vampire, sent to drain Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames And what do I get, for my pain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of […]
Hallelujah at Tiffany’s
Baby I have been here before I know this room, I’ve walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew you. I’ve seen your flag on the marble […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 