poem in progress

   The blossom Bitterness



   Blossom blossom Bitterness,
   look at you now, - so full
   of ripe, golden honey,
   for all your bitter soul!
   How heavy you are with all
   that the almonds in the field
   (so gentle and correctly dressed)
   do never yield.


   Affliction and benediction –
   each receives his own.
   I cannot take life’s measure,
   but I know that you were mine.
   Your cup contained fire.
   Your nectar was like gall.
   Seven griefs you brewed for me;
   I drank them all.


   Blossom blossom Bitterness,
   how rich at last your freight
   of warm, golden honey
   that is like the sun’s light!
   Faint with sweetness, here I stand
   in all your gift’s brightness.
   I will exult with Adam, and
   with Job I’ll witness.


(translation from Karin Boye, The Seven Deadly Sins and other posthumous poems, 1941. I changed this yesterday and I changed it now, and I'm discontented with line 5 and perhaps I'm getting used to 18-20, which I sat with closed eyes and tried to improve for a couple of hours and failed. But for now this is how it is. m)