Pages

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Now it is autumn - Edith Södergran

when all the golden birds
fly home across the blue deep water;
On shore I sit rapt in its scattering
                                                       glitter;
departure rustles through the trees.
This farewell is vast and separation draws close,
but reunion, that also is certain.

My head on my arm I fall asleep easily.
On my eyes a mother’s breath,
from her mouth to my heart:
sleep, child, and dream now the sun is gone.—

Edith Södergran (1892 – 1923) Finland
Translated by Averull Curdy

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.