There is a meadow in Sweden
where I lie smitten,
eyes stained with clouds’
white ins and outs.
And about that meadow
roams my widow
plaiting a clover
wreath for her lover.
I took her in marriage
in a granite parish.
The snow lent her whiteness,
a pine was a witness.
She’d swim in the oval
lake whose opal
mirror, framed by bracken,
felt happy, broken.
And at night the stubborn
sun of her auburn
hair shone from my pillow
at post and pillar.
Now in the distance
I hear her descant.
She sings “Blue Swallow,”
but I can’t follow.
The evening shadow
robs the meadow
of width and color.
It’s getting colder.
As I lie dying
here, I’m eyeing
stars. Here’s Venus;
no one between us.
(Joseph Brodsky)
More Poetry from Joseph Brodsky:
Joseph Brodsky Poems based on Topics: Love, Night, Snow, Marriage, Happiness- History of the Twentieth Century (A Roadshow) (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
- From A School Anthology (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
- Two Hours In Reservoir (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
- Letters To The Roman Friend (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
- To The Negotiations In Kabul (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
- Bosnia Tune (Joseph Brodsky Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Night Poems, Happiness Poems, Snow Poems, Marriage PoemsBased on Keywords: sweden, plaiting