Edith Södergran: Poems
The sun went down over the foam of the sea and the beach slept
and up in the mountains someone was singing…
When the words fell into the water they were dead…
And the song disappeared behind the firs and the twilight led it away.
When all was silent I only thought
that there was lifeblood on the dark evening-rocks,
dimly did I sense that the song was
about that which never returns.