The sister

Edith Södergran: The Rose Altar

I once had a sister, a golden child.

In the city she disappeared for me in the masses.

 

If I among black conifers

see the young birch shake its golden locks

I then remember my sister.

 

Does she stand wide-eyed among the trees

with beating heart,

does she stretch out her arms towards me?

 

Sister, my sister, whereto did they lead you?

Which desire-dreams can you dream

on tired beds?

 

Hero-child! Happy-child!

We wait together

for the day of the fairytale!