Silence

Something from one of my favourite artists of all time, A.W. Yrjänä. And as usual, it's my translation. This particular piece of work feels awfully familiar.

-Silence-

Because of silence, worn velvet
stopped pocket watch
I would give all my people, my books
my walks in the autumny park
in the wawering shade of the leaves coming loose
and because of silence my youth
almost unused
nights without sleep
the sweet wight of covers

I would step to the coldness of room
teach my thoughts to humbleness, I would
to calm from their journey
behind the iron doors
restless from the screams of their children

The absent-minded God
of places hard to reach
do you ever look at the everthinning crow
of your followers
your eyes full of question
and pain

I walk and my watch ticks
my hands look for a place to stay
being discovered doesn't stop the colourful bird from it's flight
doesn't turn open the absolute gate
for the sound and silence to go