Showing posts with label Edith Sodergran. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edith Sodergran. Show all posts

Sunday, April 11, 2021

a life





That the stars are adamant
everyone understands—
but I won’t give up seeking joy on each blue wave
or peace below every gray stone.
If happiness never comes, what is a life?
A lily withers in the sand
and if its nature has failed? The tide
washes the beach at night.
What is the fly looking for on the spider’s web?
What does a dayfly make of its hours?
(Two wings creased over a hollow body.)

Black will never turn to white—
yet the perfume of our struggle lingers
as each morning fresh flowers
spring up from hell.

The day will come
when the earth is emptied, the skies collapse
and all goes still—
when nothing remains but the dayfly
folded in a leaf.
But no one knows it.




~  Edith Sodergran
translation by Averill Curdy

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Forest Lake


.
.
I was alone on a sunny shore
by the forest's pale blue lake,
in the sky floated a single cloud
and on the water a single isle.
The ripe sweetness of summer dripped
in beads from every tree
and straight into my opened heart
a tiny drop ran down.
.
~ Edith Sodergran
(translated by: Stina Katchadourian)
.

On foot


.

On foot
I had to walk through the solar systems,
before I found the first thread of my red dress.
Already, I sense myself.
Somewhere in space hangs my heart,
sparks fly from it, shaking the air, 
to other reckless hearts.


~ Edith Sodergran, (1892-1923)
(translated by: Stina Katchadourian)