Edith Södergran: The September Lyre
Oh, my sunburn-coloured pinnacles,
will you reclaim me? !!!
Eternally I shall live in your lonely yard.
There alone is my home,
where angels with fire-eyes
fall to their knees
and kiss all the dew of longing from the ground.
Oh, my undarkened pinnacles!
Not a day do I live distant from you,
unblessed would I otherwise perish.
The earth died for me the third day,
its forests whisper to me from a dream.
What do bridges, fields and cities mean to me?
Spots on your clear sky,
a shadow in your bright eye, day,
the howling of wolves from a precipice.
Oh, my sunburn-coloured pinnacles –
could I exchange a world for my power?
Do I heal myself,
is this drop enough for all that breathes.
Therefore, longing, push forward your chest!
Will, rise to the skies!
Arise, strong warriors,
light and merry like armed devils!
- - - - - - - -
White earth and high sky
we lay at your feet,