The Night Shed Its Blue Tears by Stefán Hörður Grímsson

The Night Shed Its Blue Tears

The night shed its blue tears

on grass and woods

and the earth grew cool and deep

beneath my feet

and I felt for a moment

as if a pallor struck my breast

and my bones were rotting

and I was seized by fear.

Then I thought I heard a low whisper like that of a closing flower:

You are a spring a thousand years ago.