The Victor (Voittaja), Saima Harmaja

harmaja

Saima Harmaja wrote this at the age of nineteen, four years after she had contracted tuberculosis, and five years before her death in 1937.

He barely had the strength to raise his head.
He found enough to shift his gaze a little,
his teary eyes upon us cast glance brittle.
We looked at him and “He has won,” we said.

He barely was aware and he beside
us. Cry ecstatic struck as he was passing.
We then were silent. Horror had us gasping.
And then from truth we could no longer hide:

No victory his, no powerful rebirth.
The greatest man among us, dreams disowning,
is only dust, a fleeting shadow groaning.
There is no pardon here for us on earth.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::.

Hän tuskin nosti päätään kumaraa.
Vain hapuileva katse liukui meissä,
kun vavisten ja silmät kyyneleissä
me ylistimme häntä, voittajaa.

Hän seisoi meitä tuskin tajuten.
Löi ohitsensa hurmiomme pauhu.
Me hiljennyimme. Meihin hiipi kauhu.
Ja silloin ymmärsimme jokainen:

Ei voittoa, ei valtaa olekaan.
Hän, suurin meistä, unelmiaan vastaan
on tomu vain, on varjo ainoastaan.
Ei ole armahdusta päällä maan.

Translation by Rupert Moreton

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s