My Soul

My soul can tell no tales and knows no truths,
my soul can only cry and laugh and wring its hands;
my soul cannot remember and defend,
my soul cannot consider or approve.
As a child I saw the sea: it was blue.
In my youth I met a flower: she was red.
Now a stranger sits by my side: he is colorless,
but I fear him no more than the virgin feared the dragon.
The knight came upon the virgin, red and white,
but I have dark rings under my eyes.

From Love & Solitude, selected poems by Edith Södergran. Bilingual centennial edition. Translated by Stina Katchadourian. Fjord Press, 1992.

right before she died. thanks for your poem from finland.