Frisk Kuling by Fåntratt

Sparkling creaking skare hard.
Alone, alone is the night's silence over white roads.
I am filled with thirst
for winter cosmos.

I skid from Yttersjö to Bösta
Starry and good road conditions

Hungover jitteriness of the Holmö morning.

But now that land calls me,
There in the north the beautiful North
And it tear my body and soul,
That I'm not there
And for my inner eye,
I see the trunks of the forest high
At the place that to me can be called home.