#edith sodergran

[mournfulroses]

Edith Södergran, from Love & Solitude: The Selected Poems of E. S.; "Love,"

[nekkar66-1]

.....

Cercavi un fiore

e hai trovato un frutto.

Cercavi una sorgente

e hai trovato un mare.

Cercavi una donna

e hai trovato un'anima

Edith Sodergran

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

When he wants to get in, Horace drums his paws against door (1956) ::  © Carl Mydans (1907 – 2004, American photographer)

* * * * *

On foot I had to walk through the solar system before I found the first thread of my red dress.

Already, I sense myself. Somewhere in space hangs my heart, sparks fly from it, shaking the air, to other reckless hearts.

—Edith Södergran (1892-1923) Stina Katchadourian translation [peaceful presence]

[kuutamosonaatti]

Flowers pressed between the pages of Edith Södergran's copy of Henry Wadsworth Longfellows "Evangeline and Other Poems" (1890-1920)

[imaginemirage]

"You searched for a flower and found a fruit. You searched for a spring and found a sea. You searched for a woman and found a soul- you are disappointed."

Edith Sodergran

[notallsandmen]

"Nordic Spring", by Edith Södergran

All my air castles have melted like snow, all my dreams have run off like water, all that remains of what I’ve ever loved is a blue sky and some pale stars. The wind moves quietly among the trees. Emptiness rests. The water is still. The old fir tree stands awake thinking of the white cloud that he kissed in his dream.

-- From Dikter (1916), translation by Stina Katchadourian

[weil-weil-lautre]

That the stars are adamant everyone understands— but I won’t give up seeking joy on each blue wave or peace below every gray stone. If happiness never comes, what is a life? A lily withers in the sand and if its nature has failed? The tide                                         washes the beach at night. What is the fly looking for on the spider’s web? What does a dayfly make of its hours? (Two wings creased over a hollow body.) Black will never turn to white— yet the perfume of our struggle lingers as each morning fresh flowers spring up from hell. The day will come when the earth is emptied, the skies collapse and all goes still— when nothing remains but the dayfly                                         folded in a leaf. But no one knows it.

A Life by EDITH SÖDERGRAN

[fuoridalcloro]

La tua nostalgia è un mare che puoi navigare, la tua nostalgia è un terreno su cui puoi camminare, perché te ne stai allora inerte e scorata fissando il vuoto? Verrà un mattino con un orizzonte più rosso di tutti gli altri, verrà un vento a porgerti la mano: mettiti in cammino!

- Edith Irene Södergran -