The sun

Edith Södergran: The Shadow of the Future

I stand as if on clouds in exceptional happiness.

Red burns the edges of the clouds. It is the sun.

The sun has kissed me. Such kisses nothing on Earth.

Is life eternal like the witnessing of this moment,

oh no, to rise up along the vertical rays

closer to the sun.

One time

I shall spin myself into the forest like a fly in amber,

a relic for the future it won’t be,

but I have been in the red-hot oven of blissfulness.

Beware, you crown which shines on my brow,

what won’t they think when they see you.