when all the golden birds
fly home across the blue deep water;
On shore I sit rapt in its scattering
glitter;
departure rustles through the trees.
This farewell is vast and separation draws close,
but reunion, that also is certain.
My head on my arm I fall asleep easily.
On my eyes a mother’s breath,
from her mouth to my heart:
sleep, child, and dream now the sun is gone.—
By Edith Södergran 1892–1923 Edith Sodergran
Translated from the Swedish by Averill Curdy
Read the translator's notes
