Books from Finland - A literary journal of writing from and about Finland.

Poems from Parkerna (‘The parks’, Söderströms 1992)

The snow whirls over
Tenala churchyard

We light candle-lanterns so that
the dead shall be less

lonely, we think that they are
subject to the same laws

as we. The lights twinkle restlessly:
perhaps the dead yearn for

company, we know nothing of
their activity, the snow whirls More…

Poems from Virtaava seinä (‘Flowing wall’, 1984). First performed by Toimii!, Stockholm, 1984. Introduction by Lauri Otonkoski

Ahead lies a journey
but those who are embarking on it
are fascinated as much
by the finer-than-fine bright wall,
wall flowing like the wind separating what
is not
from what is right now
beginning to be born
from their own movements:

these restless spirits
were born in the same valley
each prepared only by their own story
each with an instrument that is more good will
than any curved or straight wood or metal,
and in this world,
its Western Yard, it is
a little dark
and it is not yet time to decide
whether it is now morning or evening.
Someone is calling, or wakening, some instrument
that is pure suggestion, a cry of departure
or a quiet enticement: ready?
It is accepted, it is answered,
it is like the voice of Reason in the cool air,
and when they all tum to start their journey
before them is rising ground, a whole hill,
a slope and a mountain the size of Europe More…

A selection of poems. Introduction by Herbert Lomas

Comet

He stands at the edge of the market,
not much to look at himself,
with a stare:
across the black dome a shooting star
draws its portrait – and is not there.

His bag weighs on him heavy –
a hard day's 
skychart inside.
He fumbles for... a formula –
some old saw, or a soaring phrase –
     to lay the moment wide.

He’s nailed fast to the world,
but before he goes away –
what did he come here to say? More…

from Hid (‘Coming here’, Söderströms, 1992). A Valley in the Midst of Violence, a selection of poems by Gösta Ågren translated by David McDuff, was published by Bloodaxe Books of Newcastle-upon-Tyne in 1992. Introduction by David McDuff

No poet can endure
being dead, a sojourn without
meaning and method. He needs
order and rhythm. His poems
are really laws. He
always turns back
from the underworld, which resembles
the everyday.

The darkness hides the screams
around him, when
the way begins. The sun is
only black heraldry, only
a cavern in the sky
of stone, and he sees
it, without being blinded. More…

Poems from Falla (Eurydike) [‘Falling (Eurydice)’, Söderström & Co., 1991]. Introduction by Michel Ekman

a murderer who is running through the culverts of a hypermodern
high-rise complex asks desperately about possible ways out if he meets anyone,
he does not express himself symbolically,
in a locked room he writes poems no one understands, what he
writes is real –

you came to me at night
you asked me to do something,
I did it, for I am possessed, by you (fixed image!) in me, by 
myself	by your constant flight out of me, 	incomplete 	by my 
flight –

now you are changed: I love your fleetingness
your flight is in vain –

what’s done is done More…

from Tasanko 967 (‘Plain 967’, Kirjayhtymä, 1991). Introduction by Jukka Petäjä

	and he woke
			 to the babble of a hungry baby
 		and his palate, his mouth
				was dry 
	and waking he recalled images of
		bodies battered
			in the violent overthrow
				of Vilnius TV Station 
			and he dozed off
				into the sound of suckling

More…

Poems from Huden där den är som tunnast (‘The skin where it is at its thinnest’, Schildts, 1991)

Just now I find myself where I most of all 
	want to be.
Just now the view is the one I most want to look at.
She who is sleeping in my bed is the one I most want to 
	sleep with.
This sandwich tastes better than all other sandwiches. 
The grass on our side of the fence is greener than on
	the other side.
This summer is more beautiful than all the summers of childhood. 
The illnesses I suffer from suit me better than
	all other illnesses.
My loss is greater than any other I have encountered. 
I would not trade my face in the mirror for all
	the mirrors in the world.
*

More…

Poems from Laki  (‘The law’, 1990)

The Law

No one’s stupid – there are
people deprived of the wise,
and those with self-respect
knocked flat. No one’s
hardened – there are people with
calloused wounds.
No one’s blind – there are
people cataracted by custom. Be different:
heal wounds and look up – wake
your dear one in mid-sleep, hug her.
(We’re all perfect.) More…

Poems from Vaikka aamuun on vielä aikaa (‘Though it’s still a long time till morning’, 1989) Introduction by Risto Rasa

This time
 this time of consensus
 that teaches
           the poor to love the prosperous,
           the bossed to love the bossers
           the kicked to love the kickers
           and all of us to love humility
 obedience and biddability
 before the hingdom, the power and the glory:
 this time
 cries out for a tearer-up,
 calls for a muster
 of thousands and thousands
 of serious and honest busters.  More...