Am I a liar...

Edith Södergran: The September Lyre

Am I a criminal, my sin is great…

Am I a jest, am I with holy things…

Am I a liar, let me then plummet from Heaven

and be crushed on your square.


Am I a liar –

then let unholy spirits bury my lyre

in rotting lakes of sulphur,

let it then stretch out the arms in prayer in moonlit nights

where no living thing passes.


Am I a liar –

then let my wonderful name be erased from the heaven’s wall,

let the pearl letters be crushed against the rocks of the ocean,

let the waters keep secret wherefrom I came,

let the world never hear my fairytale.


Am I a liar –

then the beautiful angels will still love me

like a nice, unholy brother:

she told fairytales to the moon and the heavens,

without them they couldn’t endure

and their fragile beauty would waste away.