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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
You put out my heart, like a cigarette, in the trash 

You put out my heart, like a cigarette,
in the trash. It smoldered:
hum of the air in the metro escalator,
a smoke cobra uncoils from its nest
and Kali wakes up, dances in the temple
in a circle of flames.
The pilgrims by Sörnäinen station 
glide down the street in their punts,
crowd the steps by the shore,
immerse themselves
in the flickering trash fire.
How happily the garbage burns,
how the flames warm you
when the ashes float up, disperse.
How you light up, festively,
a working day’s grey dawn.


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 Pilvet peittävät sisäänsä pilvet (Clouds Encompass Clouds), 2000. 
Translated from the Finnish by Anselm Hollo.