Towards all four winds

Edith Södergran: Poems

No bird strays into my remote corner,

no black swan that comes with longing,

no white gull predicting storm…

In the rock-shadow my wildness watches,

ready to flee at the slightest rustle, for approaching steps…

Bluey and silent is my world, the ecstatic…

I have a gate towards all four winds.

I have a gate towards the east – for the love that never comes,

I have a gate for the day and one for sadness,

I have a gate for death – it is always open.