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JUHANI AHVENJÄRVI

CLAES ANDERSSON

EVA-STINA BYGGMÄSTAR

TOMAS MIKAEL BÄCK

AGNETA ENCKELL

MARTIN ENCKELL

TUA FORSSTRÖM

PENTTI HOLAPPA

JOUNI INKALA

RIINA KATAJAVUORI

JYRKI KIISKINEN

TOMI KONTIO

JUKKA KOSKELAINEN

LEEVI LEHTO

HEIDI LIEHU

RAKEL LIEHU

LAURI OTONKOSKI

MARKKU PAASONEN

ANNUKKA PEURA

MIRKKA REKOLA

HENRIKA RINGBOM

PENTTI SAARITSA

HELENA SINERVO

EIRA STENBERG

ANNI SUMARI

ILPO TIIHONEN

SIRKKA TURKKA

MERJA VIROLAINEN

KJELL WESTÖ (ANDERS HED)

ANNUKKA PEURA (b. 1968) first collection of poems, Kaaoksen matkustaja (The Traveller to Chaos) was awarded the J. H. Erkko Prize for the best collection in 1989. Her second work of poetry, Erotus (Difference) came out six years later in 1995 and won the Kalevi Jäntti Prize. Peura studies memory and the relationships between experience and language: when did word become separated from things and feelings? Peura’s profusely associating poems reach out beyond language, but the structure of language and poetry still holds the poems on this side.
AN EXPLORER IN THE LIBRARY OF CULTURAL TRADITION
On the shore 

She sits in the cafe chair; her dress all colors of the sea
when a column of light from a car racing by catches her
at the speed of slanted letters gliding down the rim of a mirror
at that moment my head lifts from the clock hands of a plate
nodding like a buttercup:
gray: do not hope
leaf green: miracles accepted
azure sky: look at me

The clock glass stands open,
a bird has flown off with hours in its beak.
What am I doing here,
and why did you choose this very moment for our meeting,
and where is my face,
my face - where? And what is the past
(work, the waiter nods and sweeps the coins into his pocket)

Babel of molten clock faces?

And a miracle occurs: she sends me, in flight, the pupils of her eyes
which she carved out of lapis lazuli with her own hands.

For the bird is not in the camera but in her gaze,
and what is time, I see her disappear in someone
who is more beautiful, oh so much more beautiful,
and she is no more, there is no longer a chair;
she is happy without her body
and prepares to return to her original state:

small starfish quiver on her eyelids
before they splash back into the oyster stew

in the cafe chair she will once more turn into oxygen and hydrogen.


Confessions [1-12]

Confessions [13-24]

On the shore

A Propos Cavafy


 
Translated by Aili and Austin Flint.