Edith Södergran: Poems
When it rains and the sea is grey I become ill…
I laugh with the sun, blow with the wind and get turned on with the sea:
I only love the sea in uproar.
I live in a cave with many bats,
but I am fine and white with deceitful eyes.
My feet are the most beautiful I’ve seen,
I continually wash them in water and foam.
My hands are beautiful and shining,
I sparkle like the whole of the jolly and smiling coast.
Everybody who passes meets my gaze
whereby restfulness and desire fill them for life.
Oh, but when I rest my head in my hand –
what is it that always hurts so much?
I hit a cliff hard once back when I wanted to die,
because I had stretched out my arm in vain
towards a stranger I had once seen…