fredag 6 januari 2017
Günter Grass gick ur tiden i april år 2015. Jag läser hans allra sista tankar som nu finns i engelsk översättning.
" In the old days, mail was private. The mailman was one of the family; you waited for him. Conversations between the door and the doorjamb: How are the children, and the wife? The dog was glad when he arrived.
Nowadays there's seldom a letter among the junk mail, and almost never a handwritten one, one worth rereading. Soon we will have nothing more to say to each other. No secrets between the lines or implied in a hand that trembles- unless mail arrives on its own, tenderly written in the sand at low tide."
Översättning: Breon Mitchell.