Kaarlo Sarkia(1902-1945)
So peculiar is the heart,
it hopes for and is hopeless,
would like to own the treasures of the earth,
to give away its only one,
it desires to live and to blaze, to burn
and yearns to slumber the sleep of death,
the always wayward heart.
The heart you can't know.
It longs for, is left lonely.
Who could take it as its own? -
to keep awhile, then throw away.
In fidelity and happiness it trusts,
to its pain reconciling the hour of parting awaits,
this most unforeknowable heart.
(Sydän; Kohtalon vaaka, 1943, pages 118-119.)
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