Edith Södergran: The Rose Altar
In walk in the desert
and sit lonely on the mountains,
on the Devil’s rock,
where sorrows have waited
for thousands of years.
I have a sister.
The elf-girls wove her silk garments,
the moon virgin sprinkled dew on her breasts…
She is delightful… desired by gods.
Oh this sister…
should we not tell each other fairytales,
endless fairytales for a thousand years,
until dawn strikes some time –
our new dawn.
She has betrayed me?
Does she carry the dagger at her breast – the light-footed?
Answer me – laughing eyes.
No, no, thousand times no! I believe it not,
even if the angels wrote it with perfect pens
in the sheet of times…
Why did human weakness attack me?
I think nobody in this world is my sister…
What she says is true,
even if the world crumbled entirely,
my sister still never lies.