This reminds me a little of Anna Akhmatova. Saima Harmaja had all the marks of greatness, I think – but she died much too young, and the fact that she wrote in Finnish has hardly helped to spread her cause.
I tweaked the metre here and there – I’m not sure the intrusion of trochees at the start of lines always works in English. The Finnish is pretty dense, so I hope I’ve retained the poem’s sense in the search for a way to express it in English.
While, silent, strolling through enchanted garden,
I saw the flowers sleep in placid train.
It seemed to cut them might be cause of pain.
I held them sweetly, sadly begging pardon.
And then I cast my eye on scented peas,
and saw the evening’s gentle shade of azure.
As moment passed, each measure followed measure,
approaching night hue…
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