Blackbirds again
Blackbirds, blackbirds from thickets and from trees, before the buds have broken, they greet me when I walk through woods. I have understood that the Eurasian blackbird is a true […]
Category Archives: haibun
Last snowfall
In my dreams, I am in Kyiv.Between the air raid sirens, silence is unbearable, fluffy, like cotton wool. Sometimes the thunder of far-away mortar explosions and I imagine waiting, waiting […]
We have to climb again
We walk through the woods, with a slanting winter spring sun playing peek-a-boo among the birch trees hurling long shadows across our path. A thin crust of snow still covers […]
Woodwalk
I walk into the verdant woods alonemy boots are drums and breeze in leaves the stringsa sudden bird-song interrupts; a fluteto hail the morning sun in open glades.I stroll without […]
The week of skrei
Later in the winter-spring icicles will lace the eaves, great tits welcome the dawn with their “si-da si-da”. I remember that as a kid they were less insistent singing “si-si-da […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 