MM N 109, p. 1
She was a Swan
It glided with its long white
neck across the water – which
reflected its graceful lines and
the sky’s white clouds
– It looked about with kind eyes –
– I poked around down there in the depths
among blue-black vermin – greenish-brown
slime and hideous creatures –
and Remembered
a time when I did not have mire
in my bronchia when I lived up there in the light
– I was frightened by my own shadow
terror forced me up to the pure
colours –
It was so radiantly blindingly bright
There was the swan –
It glided with its long white neck
across the water, which reflected
MM N 109, p. 2
MM N 109, p. 3
its graceful lines and the sky’s
white clouds
It looked about with kind eyes
I reached out with my hands –
It approached slowly – until
I thought I could touch it
press its white breast to mine –
rest my weary head against it soft down
– But it does not come closer – …
the water around me was full of mire –
and I glimpsed my face in
the mire – it was terribly pale
– The Swam became frightened –
I heard a scream – and I
knew it was I who had screamed –
The Swan was far off – glided
upon the shiny surface that reflected
its graceful lines and the sky’s white
clouds there where the water reflected
the sky’s white clouds
