Wasn't there before
reason to mourn?
Now there is,
but it won't help to cry.
lines, heavy, stifling
slide through spaces between
without them
suppose it's better
Out of grief
two ways I know
but who would want to
let go of their own?
yet it is beautiful,
the world,
while others behold it
perhaps I too shall in turn
Translated from my originally Finnish text.