Sunday, 13 July 2014


By Edith Södergran

I, my own prisoner, say so:
life is not the springtime clad in light green velvet,
or a caress that one seldom receives,
life is not a resolve to go
or two white arms that hold one back.
Life is the narrow ring that holds us captive,
the invisible circle we never cross,
life is nearby happiness that passes us by,
and the thousand steps we cannot bring ourselves to take.
Life is to despise oneself
and to lie motionless on the bottom of a well
and to know that the sun is shining up there
and golden birds are flying through the air
and the days swift as arrows are shooting by.
Life is to wave a short farewell and go home and sleep . .
Life is to be a foreigner to oneself
and a new mask for every other person who comes.
Life is to be careless with one's own happiness
and to push away the unique moment,
life is to think oneself weak and not to dare.

Found this poem by Edith Södergran in English. (Translation by David McDuff.) I love her poetry, especially this one. Treasuring life...


  1. Hi Sasa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    Too much time withou knowing of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    I liked this:

    "Life is to be careless with one's own happiness"

    I think, make the happiness of others, and one's own happiness, will come to us!!!!

    What a beautiful painting!! i think i told you a time ago that you would paint in a biger size. Imagine this painting in a size: 1 meterx080!!!!!!!! not be overwhelming?!!!!!!!
    Have a nice week Sasa!!!!!

  2. Roberto, I love your interpretation. I mean happiness...

    This is not that big but I shall try. My large sheets are still untouched.

  3. Quite an interesting poem!! I like the painting, too. The flower is a symbol of life. But the white space might be everything that is going to happen in one's life...

  4. Sasa, both the poem and your colourful painting are a pleasure.

  5. Hi Sasa, I think this is a terrible sad poem. I recognise a lot and try my whole life to be strong and to dare, but I know the ring that holds us captive. I still am trying and luckily a lot of times I succeed in caring about my happiness and that of others. This poem gives me a very hopeless feeling.
    Your flower is beautiful and shows the good things of life to lighten up the sad atmosphere.