+ + +
in the cooling sauna
under a warm old blackened ceiling
amid the smell of drying hyssop
I stretch – am I
laid out in death, Holbein-like, hand
drooping
or the orphan girl from the story, waiting alone
to see if Old Nick will come a-courting
I lift my arms above my head
and am drawn out more and more
neck growing further from the hips and knees
eyebrows growing further from the cheekbones
hair rising in a cloud above my head
tapering into the birches behind the sauna
to merge with the last rays of twilight in the treetops
I wonder
will smoke-stained Old Nick really turn up
but I have hyssop
a white-and-gold girl-giant
scoured clean, unfurled, infinite
maybe this is what I would be if not for
all the knots inside
Translated by Hilary Bird
+ + +
the soft warm dark of the human body
metaphors
are futile how is destruction
so easy for us while it’s so hard
to birth and build and tend
while destruction can come about all by itself
as if anyone were left untouched by death anyway
as if anyone were left untouched by death
as if anyone were left untouched
Translated by Ragne Schults and Mirjam Parve
Sometimes I See
1
the scent of hyacinths
this frosty scent of hyacinths
is meant for no one in particular
this rare bird just alighted on my arm
slightly startled I’m admiring her
the iridescence the colours the brilliant silky feathers
her black-gold eyes sharp
I have no idea what she eats
she won’t be staying for long
she is nobody’s bird and this beauty
is meant for no one and doesn’t mean a thing
is meant for no one
yet I am allowed to hold it briefly
until she takes off
allowed to gaze at her
all still
all grateful and tender
until the hyacinths breathe their last scent
2
a peaceful moment until the brisk wings spring into the air above
leaving claw marks on my arm
a time of peace a land still free
a chance meeting
spring light a bunch of hyacinths
a glade of sudden light a clear-eyed glance
this aching tenderness this softening
briefly seeing inside another a lake some fish the reeds
lives bright birds against a dark sky
Translated by Ragne Schults and Mirjam Parve
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mirjam Parve (b. 1991) is a poet and translator. Her debut collection Varjukeha (Shadow Body, 2023) received the Betti Alver Literary Prize and was nominated for the Cultural Endowment of Estonia’s poetry award. She has also received the Juhan Liiv Poetry Award and the August Sang Poetry Translation Prize.