We viewed a nebula inside a tube.
To us a golden herd of mist it seemed.
In larger tubes it might have gleamed
as suns in thousands in their boundless space.
Our dizziness of mind imagined
that it rose, high up from war on earth,
from time and space—our life's naivety—
to new dimensions in their majesty.
There no law rules of this life's type.
There laws rule for the world where worlds abound.
There the suns roll out till they are ripe
and deep in the hearth of every sun resound.
Suns in plenitude are present there.
And there, to cosmic law, each sun pulsates
in larger suns' unfathomable blaze.
And there all is brightness and the daylight of all days.
By Harry Martinson
From Passad, 1945
Translated by Stephen Klass
Published with the permission of Eva Martinson