Tag: poetry
In the sand-pit
Issue 3/1997 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems from Viivoitettu uni (‘A ruled dream’, Tammi, 1996). Introduction by Riina Katajavuori
Driving in the countryside awakens painful memories.
An apple fell into the back seat of our cabriolet
and was eaten. The core was not laid to rest.
It rotted, it vapourised, it disappeared before our very eyes
as we stared at it …. How can driving in the countryside
bring such agony?
How are trees, how are clouds,
how are ladders not
as they are? More…
The prisoner and the prophet
Issue 2/1997 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems from Timmermannen (‘The carpenter’, Söderströms, 1996). Introduction by Jyrki Kiiskinen
The greatest message
Reader, love is
a secret, waiting
for wind, not a choice
between loving or not.
As commandment, degraded
to demand, it will soon be
fanatic like a wound,
a form of hate. How
could a secret
become reality
without dying? Every
decree destroys its region. Made a law
goodness turns
into the protecting
skin, with which the good
touches everything. A demand
for understanding, that,
which we call wisdom,
makes of wisdom
an armour, a cold
father around us.
The real communication is
his life. Against evil stands
the tale of a face.
How could such a secret
become real
or die? More…
From life to life
Issue 2/1997 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems from Taivas päivystää (‘Sky on duty’, WSOY, 1996). Introduction by Tero Liukkonen
Flitting from dream to dream. Vanishings.
And you can’t even look.
What you looked with has been taken.
Then there’s more you know.
How helpless you are.
Then you know what Bottom meant
awake from his dream and trying to remember
what he’d lost. Then he did wake.
‘Man’s but a patched fool,’ he said,
‘if he’ll offer to say what methought I had.’
Everything had gone topsy-turvy but she just went on feeling she was hanging her head, she just went on feeling she was searching the lawn for a four-leaf clover, and the lawn had covered everything up and not a soul was troubling her. More...
I was born here
Issue 1/1997 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems, introduction by Ilpo Tiihonen
Bloggs
You work eight hours a day,
sleep thirteen.
Three hours are gone in eating
and telling dirty stories by your bed.
When they say, ‘If only you’d
read something, mate –
you’re dribbling your life away,’
back you come with:
‘Living like this 1 make everything mine.’
Bloggs, Bloggs,
should the world be changed for you?
From Tie pilven alta ('The way out of the cloud', 1939) More...
I am a happy person
Issue 1/1997 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems from En lycklig mänska (‘A happy person’, Söderströms, 1996). Introduction by Rika Lesser
Why shouldn't Johann Sebastian Bach be good enough even in this my 59th summer. I contemplate the apple tree in the middle of the field. The continuo branches out just above the earth into four trunks, which, in turn, divide into arms more slender, where the fruits ripen. The foliage patterns the sky, hands plait the voices into a basket. Under the earth, where the roots rehearse, I wait for the succulent, faintly sour fruit. * More...
In the land of the living
Issue 4/1996 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems by Arto Melleri. Introduction by Maris Gothóni
The airship Italia
Farewell, darlings, General Nobile's sailing in his airship to a glittering death... whoever knows the journey's end as he sets out is there already, wafted on his wing-stubs; farewell, doubters smiles on your lips like the imprints of horse-bits: 'he'll never get there this way' 'get there' – as if 'there' were some place; in one day you can only manage a day's journey, it's more realistic, far more, to get the measure of Perdition; farewell, darlings, I'm off with him, his scrivener, I'm stretching over the verge of tears towards boundless laughter, the dignified business of tarring and feathering, I'm making notes: this is a dream, a single night's eternity, a sound mind's storming of the Bastille; farewell, you who always know better what should be done than the doers, and how, you don't do, you know, you put your hat on a shelf called History, General Nobile's flying over the craters of history northwards, northwards, and the sun's scoopful of molten tin is about to splash in the cold ocean, and the moon's a ball of camphor-soaked cotton wool wiping the smoking sky, farewell, darlings, there, flashing ahead, are the crystal shores of Ultima Thule
From Ilmalaiva Italia (‘Airship Italia’, 1980) More…
Between shadow and sunlight
Issue 4/1996 | Archives online, Fiction, poetry
Poems from Homecoming (translated by David McDuff, published by Carcanet Press, 1993)
It was hopeless trying to keep the window on the yard side clean
Perhaps it was an advantage not to see clearly,
roofs and chimneys, indeed, even the sky became friendly
seen from this renunciation. When it rained
the water formed streets of narrow drops, almost silver-coloured.
I considered them closely.
What use I should have for them I did not know.
*