I tossed and turned but could not sleep, so got up in the early hours, reading by lamplight, in the creeping silence, some Tomas Tranströmer.
3.30am, the following lines:
At home stood the all-knowing Encyclopedia, a yard of bookshelf,
in it I learned to read.
But each one of us has his own encyclopedia written, it grows out
of each soul,
it’s written from birth onwards, the hundreds of thousands of pages
stand pressed against each other
and yet with air between them! Like the quivering leaves in a forest.
The book of contradictions.
– Brief Pause in the Organ Recital, 1983