Fountains - L. Onerva

Glittering bright, streaming in swirls
flow night-deep fountains of tears,
rolling in streams as golden pearls,
ancient remains of my happy years.

Hope - Edith Södergran

I want to let go -
so I don't give a damn about fine writing,
I'm rolling my sleeves up.

Burn - Inger-Mari Aikio

in the morning I'm horny
but there are guests on the way

Assimilation - Eeva-Liisa Manner

I will show you a way
that I have travelled.

Quietly my wife - Toivo Lyy

Quietly my wife
breaths beside me,

I long for the land that is not - Edith Södergran

I long for the land that is not,
For all that is, I am weary of wanting.
The moon speaks to me in silvern runes
About the land that is not.

untitled - Henry Parland

I have drunk mineral water at Kämp
and applied Eau de Cologne at Gamla Passagen
and called
to say I’ll be back at 1:10.

There is a cave in man - Eira Stenberg

There is a cave in man,

it is where he comes from.

He does not know that.

Lyric Poetry - Bertel Gripenberg

Mosaic made from fragments of emotion —

A tiny drop of elixir, gold tear

Pressed from life’s dark and obscure potion —

A whole from what true wholeness cannot near —

The Door to Happiness - L. Onerva

A warm loving human heart

was beating once for me, I know,

the door to happiness was open,

inviting to feel its glow.

In the Land of Art - Anselm Hollo

the artists

work on the art farm.

Finlandia - Veikko Antero Koskenniemi

Finland, behold, thy daylight now is dawning,

the threat of night has now been driven away.

Nocturne - Eino Leino

The corncrake's song rings in my ears,

above the rye a full moon sails;

this summer night all sorrow clears

and woodsmoke drifts along the dales,

I do not laugh or grieve, or sigh;

In The Bloom Of His Youth - At The Height Of Summer - Uuno Kailas

How wonderful to be lolling about here.

Spreading one's limbs on the palm of a rock's hand.

In the nude.

The Horizon (A conversation between a child and its mother) - Frans Michael Franzén

"See! where to earth bends down the sky! 

See how the morning clouds up-roIlcd 

Tinge the far forest with their gold. 

And we delay — both thou and I, 

To go to heaven, my mother dear, 

When every day it is ho near."

Love - Edith Södergran

My soul was a light blue dress the color of the sky;

I left it on a rock by the sea

and naked I came to you, looking like a woman.

No, Molotov - Tatu Pekkarinen

Finlandia, Finlandia,

that’s where the Ivans were heading again.

When Molotov promised: "Yes, everything will go fine,

tomorrow we'll already be eating ice-cream in Helsinki.”

No Molotov, no Molotov

you told more lies than Bobrikov himself.

 

Loveliest Poem - Arvo Turtiainen

The loveliest poem is born

when you are close to someone,

Time is precious, I know - Tua Forsström

Time is precious, I know,

to each enough of one’s own suffering.

My hat - Henry Parland

My hat

was run over

by a trolley

yesterday.