Animalistic Hymn

Translated from the Swedish by Brooklyn Copeland
The red sun rises
without intent
and shines the same on all of us.
We play like children under the sun.
One day, our ashes will scatter—
                                           it doesn’t matter when.
Now the sun finds our innermost hearts,
                                           fills us with oblivion
intense as the forest, winter and sea.


More Poems by Edith Södergran