For: Edith Södergran

Inscribed … In red granite As clearer thought as… Anything—Scandinavian, Or any other rests upon a grey lawn. Anon, it circle's a silent grave Where once stood a blue forest A single pine tree does remain etched within, its timeless rings. Her poems 'Love & solitude' refrain... Narrow is my circle and the ring of my thoughts Go round my finger. This is the scorned, nightingales, bark to sing… But, laughing-back from her bluest-heights A pine lark road in heaven is ringed. Inscribed … In red granite 'Here - four of her last four lines.' See here lies eternity's shore, Here the stream rushes by, And death plays in the bushes The same simple melody.