April and Silence by Tomas Tranströmer

Spring lies abandoned.
A ditch the color of dark violet
moves alongside me
giving no images back.

The only thing that shines
are some yellow flowers.

I am carried inside 
my own shadow like a violin
in its black case.

The only thing I want to say
hovers just out of reach
like the family silver
at the pawnbroker’s.

~ from The Winged Energy of Delight, Selected
Translations, Robert Bly (Perennial, 2004)