Suomeksi

UNDER THE OAK TREES OF MUKKULA

 

The air is thick with words under the oak trees,

the trees are all ears
the lake is holding its breath
the sauna is sweating -

In the summer night a songbird interprets
the words of a poet,
counting the alliterations and rhymes
in the day’s discourse,

and the moon pricks its ears
at the score of tongues ringing in the night.

At the heart of the tree in his little room,
a clocksmith measures the beat of time:
hearing through the hum
a sound
as if someone was embracing this place
where the roots of the trees touch
each other.

Eira Stenberg

Tarja Soiniola and Eira Stenberg, June 12th 2015

© LIWRE 2017