Edith Södergran: The Shadow of the Future

I am a very mature person,

but nobody knows me.

My friends are mistaken about me.

I am not tame.

I have measured the tameness in my eagle's talons and know it well.

Oh eagle, what sweetness in the flight of your wings.

Shall you be silent like everything else?

Will you perhaps write poetry? You shall never again write poetry.

Every poem shall be the destruction of the poem,

not poem, but marks of claws.