SONNET TO AN UNKNOWN

Kaarlo Sarkia(1902-1945)

These eyes didn't rest in your eyes,

these lips didn't grow drunken from your mouth.

Not touch your hand even can this hand -

these are tears of longing, not of joy.

I didn't linger close to your heart,

the silken rope of your loins my fingers

didn't stroke - only as you passed by

have each other gazes touched.

Oh fate, you merciless, you cruel!

My fair longed-for, arch-browed one,

this alien to you shall I always stay?

Still evenings painful, desolate

thus must I live plenty, plenty

as from this far you, yearned-for, I see?

[Sonetti tuntemattomalle; Runot(Seitsemäs painos, WSOY 1959), sivut 47-48.]

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