After the (working) hours and instead of a dinner

I have recently learned about the English version of a Swedish song I love very much. It's Undantag  by Bo Kaspers orkester. The original's better, but not many like to listen to the music if they can't understand the lyrics. The lyrics in Swedish are ...well...different....I mean, there is a huge difference between English version with "....Swedish film of sweet delight" and the original, where he sings about a Turkish film with happy ending. I like the band and the music, so I enjoy the both versions.  

I crave for sunlight, and thinking of the springtime I have found a poem by Margaret Atwood, called Flying Inside Your Own Body. The beginning of it reminds me of Desanka Maksimovic's poem Springtime. just the beginning, of course.   

Flying Inside Your Own Body

Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in dreams you can do this.
Waking, your heart is a shaken fist,
a fine dust clogs the air you breathe in;
the sun’s a hot copper weight pressing straight
down on the think pink rind of your skull.
It’s always the moment just before gunshot.
You try & try to rise but you cannot.