<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=122805" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Solitude</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was nearly killed here, one night in February.<br>My car shivered, and slewed sideways on the ice,<br>right across into the other lane. The slur of traffic<br>came at me with their lights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My name, my girls, my job, all<br>slipped free and were left behind, smaller and smaller,<br>further and further away. I was a nobody:<br>a boy in a playground, suddenly surrounded.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The headlights of the oncoming cars<br>bore down on me as I wrestled the wheel through a slick<br>of terror, clear and slippery as egg-white.<br>The seconds grew and grew – making more room for me –<br>stretching huge as hospitals.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I almost felt that I could rest<br>and take a breath<br>before the crash.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then something caught: some helpful sand<br>or a well-timed gust of wind. The car<br>snapped out of it, swinging back across the road.<br>A signpost shot up and cracked, with a sharp clang,<br>spinning away in the darkness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And it was still. I sat back in my seat-belt<br>and watched someone tramp through the whirling snow<br>to see what was left of me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Tomas+Transtromer">Tomas Transtromer</a>, translated by Robin Robertson<div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=122805" data-title="Solitude de Tomas Transtromer" data-description="I was nearly killed here, one night in February./My car shivered, and slewed sideways on the ice,/right across into the other lane. The slur of traffic/came at me with their lights./My name, my girls, my job, all/slipped free and were left behind,..."></div> </div> </div>

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