Violet twilights

Edith Södergran: Poems

Violet twilights I carry inside me from my ancient past,

naked virgins at play with galloping centaurs…

Yellow sunny days with sparkling appearances,

sunbeams only worthily envelop a loving female body…

The man hasn’t come, has never been, shall never be…

The man is a fake mirror which the sun’s daughter angrily throws against the cliff,

the man is a lie which white children don’t understand,

the man is a rotten fruit which proud lips deceive.

 

Beautiful sisters, come on up on the strongest cliffs,

we are all warrioresses, heroides, knightesses,

innocence-eyes, heaven-brows, rose-larvae,

heavy surfs and lost birds,

we are the least expected and the deepest red,

tigerspots, tightened strings, stars without dizziness.