(no subject)

NOCTURE
I hear the evening cornbird calling, 
moonlight floods the fields of tasseled grain; 
wood smoke, drifting veils the distant valleys, 
summer evening’s joy is here for me.

I’m not happy yet no sorrow shakes me; 
but the dark wood’s stillness I would welcome, 
rosy clouds through which the day is falling, 
sleepy breezes from the blue-gray mountains, 
shadows on the water, meadow flowers; 
out of these my heart’s own song I’ll make.

I will sing it, summer hay-sweet maiden, 
sing to you my deep serenity, 
my own faith that sounds a swelling music, 
oak-leaf garland ever fresh and green.

I’ll no longer chase the will-o-wisp, 
happiness is here in my own keeping; 
day by day, life’s circle narrows, closes; 
time stands still now, the weather cocks all sleeping; 
here before me lies a shadowy way, 
leading to a strange, an unknown place.

Eino Leino, 1903 (translation by Aina Swan Cutler)