You who never went out of your garden plot…

by Edith Södergran (1892-1923)
 
You who never went out of your garden plot,
did you never stand at the latticed view
and longingly watch how on dreaming paths
the evening toned into blue?
 
Was that not a foretaste of unwept tears
that burned like a fire on your tongue,
when over ways you never went
a blood-red sun went down?


(It's been a dreary wet day here, so a day for enjoying the moving and lyrical works of the Finnish poet, Edith Södergran...)