Featured Poem: Triumph of being…
What does time - limited and infinte - mean to us? Well, it is the very essence of our being, both binding us and liberating us:
Triumph of being...
What have I to fear? I am a part of infinity,
I am a part of the all's great power,
a lonely world inside millions of worlds,
like a star of the first degree that fades last.
Triumph of living, triumph of breathing, triumph of being!
Triumph of feeling time run ice-cold through one's veins
and of hearing the silent river of the night
and of standing on the mountain under the sun.
I walk on sun, I stand on sun,
I know of nothing else than sun.
Time - convertress, time - destructress, time - enchantress,
do you come with new schemes, a thousand tricks to offer me existence
as a little seed, as a coiled snake, as a coiled snake, as a rock amidst the sea?
Time - you murdress - leave me!
The sun fills my breast with sweet honey up to the brim
and she says: all stars fade at last, but they always shine without fear.
Edith Södergran (1892 - 1923)
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