Else Cederborg Biography

Passions pounding like fists of vengeance
torturing the helpless heart of love
all the time these cruel passions cry out:
'You hit me! ' they yell. 'Cruel heart!
...

The kisses of the day lack darkness
Nights turn kisses into little arrows
the bow is still vibrant from the shot
Was this what I wanted, this passion?
...

Dangling from nowhere
flapping non-existent wings
even moving in airy clouds
no foothold, but still, quite safe
...

This pulse, this life
that's what it's about
blood rushing, going at a speed
steering me into complicity with passions
...

How come?
A thief in my pocket
another one in my purse
not to speak of the one invading my account
...