Paavo Haavikko, 1966
A Flower Song
The fir-trees at play;
comes raining down
ceaselessly;
O you, the wood-cutter's
daughter,
steep as the mountains,
as gruff and as gorgeous,
listen,
if you never loved, if I
never loved (your
bitterest words
when we parted), O listen —
the cones, raining down upon you
abundantly, ceaselessly,
without mercy.
— tr. by Anselm Hollo
Life being short, poverty and wealth
are final verdicts, in that
poverty and life are of equal duration
and wealth and cold indifference
are perennial and hereditary, like diseases.
(from May, Eternal, 1988, tr. by Anselm Hollo)
And, briefly:
The old part (1754-1762) is known as
The Winter Palace.
Accordingly everything,
Floor, ceiling, walls
Is covered with these exalted beings:
Venus, Jupiter, many ladies
Of a full-bodied vintage.
You can still see how many a man
Lost head and hat
By the Berezhina River,
You can see that Borodino
Was a victory;
Of such
I'm talking, here,
Under the roof
Thatched by my hair.
(from The Winter Palace, 1959, tr. by Anselm Hollo)
