I hope you will enjoy these quotes and poems by one of my favorite poets.....
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I don't create poetry, I create myself, for me my poems are a way to me.
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The inner fire is the most important thing mankind possesses.
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--Edith Södergran (1892-1923), Finnish-Swedish Poet, author of four books of free-verse poems which were controversial and reviled during her brief but intense life. She wrote about nature, love, disillusionment, the soul, poverty, war, illness, and much more. Her mystic vision and modern approach were only truly appreciated after her death. She was one of the first Swedish-language modernists. Growing up in privilege in Russia and in the Swedish-speaking part of Finland, Sodergran was multi-lingual and well-read. Her family was cut off from their funds in St. Petersburg by World War I and the Finnish civil war that followed, and they fell into poverty. Her life was cut short by tuberculosis and malnutrition. Stina Katchadourian has translated a selection of Sodergran's poetry that is now in its third printing. The second and third editions include both Swedish and English versions on facing pages.
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The Hyacinth
I.
I stand here courageous, in joyful anticipation.
Will fate throw snowballs at me?
May the snow seep through my brown hair,
may the snow cool my exuberant neck.
I raise my head. I have my secret. What could master me?
I am unbroken, a hyacinth that cannot die.
I am a spring flower with pink bells
rising full of earth's carefree triumph:
To live unsurpassed, certain, without resistance in the world.
II.
I emerge a hyacinth out of hard-frozen ground.
Break me off with your mighty hands--Life.
I kiss your hand, more succulent than I.
Break me off as a jewel for a queen.
If there be a carefree and lighthearted queen,
may she hold the hyacinth as a sceptre in her hand,
spring's fragile symbol, related to the sun.
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The Land That is Not
I long for the land that is not,
because all that exists, I'm too weary to want.
The moon tells me in silvery runes
about the land that is not.
The land where all our dreams are wondrously fulfilled,
the land where we cool our bleeding brow
in the dew of the moon.
My life was a hot illusion.
But one thing I have found and one thing I have really won--
the way to the land that is not.
In the land that is not
my beloved walks with brilliant crown.
who is my beloved? The night is dark
and the stars quiver in response.
Who is my beloved? What is his name?
The heavens arch higher and higher,
and an earthly child drowns in endless fogs
and knows no answer.
But an earthly child is nothing but certainty.
And it stretches its arms higher than all the heavens.
And an answer comes: I am the one you love and will always love.
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Comments: 28
The group: We Comment Back
Thanks.
I am always glad to see poetry shared. Thank you for being so dedicated.
These are lovely words.