Thursday, December 9, 2010

Requiem, by Saana Tykkä

by Saana Tykkä


The traveler has seen
 The same dunes before;
He carries them along
With desert-blinded eyes
And furrowed skin,
Avoids looking around.
As the bells fall in silence,
The sand covers
The pathway behind.


The fingers
Of agonizing
 Caress his beloved one,
The moon, occasionally
They strangle too.
 The dark ground is concealed
With the steps of devotee.


Woman walks the stairs:
In her hands wears
A web,
     Like a prayer to bear 
The veiled light’s
Blued fingers.
She hears the shroud
“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine”,
And the candles’ flame
Burns the rest away.

Sequentia (Dies Irae)

The wind talks strange language
Carrying a shield of North,
Its gear and garbage
To bloom.
Yesterdays, sliced on papers
Wage war against others,
Never forgetting
That soldiers who fall on their knees
Hold pierced ribs of the land
In their cupped hands
Lies salted water
Falling from the sky,
That same
Never-ending sea.


A sinless shirt of fall
Is tied by its sleeve.
Binding to the line
Cuts deep, next time only
When released
Clothespins make a laugh
As the innocents’ cloth
Is offered for the breeze:
The heavens' blithe burden
Is never same
For others to bear.


Over the brick buildings hovers
The scent of the spireas:
A mud-covered cosmos breathes.
The moment’s fallen draws
Streams of silence,
A buried tomorrow
Waits hidden
Inside the child.

From  one shore to another
Cypresses carry fog of men
And those, who shatter as small stones,
Beneath the footfalls call
"A remembrance".

Agnus Dei

In the hands of departing
A cup of reconcilement:
In its firm hold
Is kept the dawn.

Woods’ frosted inhale
Waiting for heaven, talks
Before the snow,
We know,
The blooming ones of dreams,
Whom the lips of twilight kiss,
Tomorrows are gone.
 A pathway’s time
Leaves a deep memory
In the blessed’s ground,
Only the deaths shall dance
Over the meadows anymore.

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