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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) |
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MERJA VIROLAINEN (b. 1962) has published four collections of poems, Hellyyttäsi taitat gardenian (Because of Your Tenderness You Break a Gardenia, 1990), Tervapeili (Tar Mirror, 1995), Pilvet peittävät sisäänsä pilvet (Clouds Encompass Clouds, 2000) and Olen tyttö, ihanaa! (I'm a Girl, Wonderful!, 2004). She has also written a book about shamanism and witchcraft and a play called Täyttymyskomedia (Fulfilment Comedy, 1993). Virolainen has also worked as translator, translating Keats, Shelley, Dickinson and Indian modern poetry among others.
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THE ROUGH FRICTION OF OPPOSITES |
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Still
Lanterns shimmer on the garden’s branches, the lilac has just burst into bloom – the little man’s too short to see farther down.
Is it lovers on the swing, entwined, flowers pinned to their chests? The swing squeaks, complains, piglet and chicken sizzle on the grill, a hot wind wafts across the boy’s face. At the window, a cat licks her paws, the made-up night walks in the garden and sings: “Come into love’s enchanted kingdom! Time ceases here, and so does space: lovers never grow old, the well’s playful mirror never goes mute, and the night, the night is always young here.”
What does the song mean? The boy does not know, his stick keeps knocking against the fence, kicking his skateboard along with a ragged sneaker: the fence is too tall for him to see what happens on the other side.
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 Still
Bottles clink, glasses break
What´s the use of prolonging,...
You put out my heart, like a cig...
Bear Park
That pimply-faced Narcissus
Friend, against my will
This parting of ours, how many...
Quietly sighing like sand
I close my eyes and open again
Oh back, shimmery parchment
This time next year
No, he didn't grow yet
Afterwards everyone leaves
Say, my sagacity, goodbye
I am the last poem
There are no neon lights in Hels...
1.
By speaking from close by
Nothing has been
When a curlew cries
Mother's scent is powder
Grandma, your tissue-paper face...
Autumnal night pauses as I pause
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