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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)

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.
THE ROUGH FRICTION OF OPPOSITES
 

Say, my sagacity, goodbye,
a stronger voice calls,
I long
for that crevice, the dirty cave
where I couple with a lizard,
troll's semen burns the mouth.
A shadow ran beside me all day;
where else would I drown it
but in the arms of a greater shadow?
Say, my sagacity, goodbye,
the voices of friends, loved ones
call,
one-eyed liars
whores, drunks, rapists,
worshippers of false gods.
In my smoky, dirty cave
brother murders brother,
a cripple is tripped and abused,
a lover's bed is soiled
and a bundle of that which rustles stands for virtue.

There, in my only heaven
out of longing a whip bites into skin,
there I get drunk on tears,
sweat sweeter than nectar!
I vomit a bridal veil on my hair,
shit shines as my precious stones,
when the starry sky, Mr. Scabby Toad,
leads into the wedding walz with itself.

Say, my sagacity, goodbye --
heat commands a woman:
I want into the cave, into the dirty crevice
where I can lick mould,
where pus glistens
in the moss-covered walls.
With whom did I get laid?
I didn't watch the faces!

Oh, the stink of liquour, 
spare-toothed troll mouth,
lizard's wrinkled skin, louse-head,
snot-stubble, bone rot!
I turn into a steaming witch-kettle,
with his tuberous tool the satyr 
stirs in me;
I had thought I had
learnt something even from books,
something that civilizes,
but what precisely
is often hurriedly concluded is
that a lizard would give up its tail.


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


 
From Tervapeili (Tar Mirror), 1995. 
Translated by Seija Paddon.