(no subject)
Dec. 23rd, 2003 10:36 pmViolet dusks...
Violet dusks I bear within me from my ancient past,
naked maidens at play with galloping centaurs...
Yellow sunlit days with brilliant gazes,
only sunbeams do true homage to a tender woman's body...
No man has yet come, has ever been, will ever be...
A man is a false mirror that the sun's daughter hurls against the cliffs in rage,
A man is a lie that pure children do not understand,
A man is a rotten fruit that proud lips disdain.
Beautiful sisters, come high up onto the strongest rocks,
we are all amazons, heroines, horsewomen,
eyes of innocence, brows of heaven, buds of roses,
heavy breakers and soaring birds,
we are the least expected and the deepest red,
stripes of tigers, taut strings, stars without vertigo.
by Edith Södergran (1916)
Violet dusks I bear within me from my ancient past,
naked maidens at play with galloping centaurs...
Yellow sunlit days with brilliant gazes,
only sunbeams do true homage to a tender woman's body...
No man has yet come, has ever been, will ever be...
A man is a false mirror that the sun's daughter hurls against the cliffs in rage,
A man is a lie that pure children do not understand,
A man is a rotten fruit that proud lips disdain.
Beautiful sisters, come high up onto the strongest rocks,
we are all amazons, heroines, horsewomen,
eyes of innocence, brows of heaven, buds of roses,
heavy breakers and soaring birds,
we are the least expected and the deepest red,
stripes of tigers, taut strings, stars without vertigo.
by Edith Södergran (1916)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-24 10:07 am (UTC)