The statue of beauty

Edith Södergran: The Rose Altar

I saw beauty.

It was my fate! It explains everything.

How thank for it?

Fresh roses, picked with warm hands,

I lay every single day

in front of your statue

so your smile can find rest.

Where do I find roses

that don’t offend my dreams?

It is my lot –

every day to go with roses for my queen

and lie sobbing at her feet…

When shall I rise light as a feather

to fetch the rose, the only one,

the one which never dies?