Matti Paloheimo(1947-)
Everything is possible, yet.
But road after road is closed,
birds executed slowly, trees logged
away from us,
the sound of the flute silenced.
We look who they are, those powers of darkness,
those executioners standing mute.
Through the smoke can't discern, don't dare go near,
but as wind breaks the veil
there is no question:
they have our faces.
[Kaikki on mahdollista; Tämän maailman lumet, 1978.]
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