How Rebels Die

Rebel

he groped for a pen and notebook
and wrote in the light of mouth flames
a new moral code

whom the gods want to take revenge on
they make able to see

letting people handle the matter
in their way
like blowing one's nose​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Mayakovsky

the stars sound like sleigh bells
who could resist their temptation
the sickle is sharpened
and the hammer bangs

the shaken boat of love
does not heal by swelling
when the heart is chained
thought ceases

best then for you
to put on a clean shirt
rise to address history
from a branch higher
while the whole hell-black ceiling
seeps through thousands of holes
yellow pale light
like urine​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A certain in memoriam

the clatter of hooves
the rumble from the dome
through clouds and leaves
filters old testament light
the house is empty
leaves fall into the yard
and are gone
the multitude of steps
tramples the ground

as humus bears life
the words​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ bear spirit

P.S.

the grave is open, uncreated
from its bottom I look at you, sky
night has covered the small stage
and stars are today real stars
lights are now dimmed

it's suitably cool to be
there's no draft
nor is it too damp
I don't promise to write
but I can rise
and walk to the river bank
and send a piece of bark
if you want​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Original poems in Finnish by Ilpo Halo. Translated into English assisted by AI technology. Copyright remains with the author, Ilpo Halo.