Edith Södergran: Poems
Our sisters wear multi-coloured garments,
our sisters stand near the water and sing,
our sisters sit on rocks and wait,
they have water and air in their baskets
and call it flowers.
But I throw my arms around a cross and cry.
I was once as soft as a sap green leaf
and hung high in the blue air,
when two blades were crossed inside me
and a victorious master led me to his lips.
His hardness was so tender that I didn’t break,
he fastened a shining star on my brow
and left me trembling with tears
on an island called winter. –