Det \u00e4r sant att du hade ett h\u00e5rt liv,
men en sak du har haft mera \u00e4n jag.
Du hade m\u00f6jlighet att leva
i ditt fosterland, i Karelia,
varifr\u00e5n min hela sl\u00e4kt jakades bort
av den r\u00f6da brutala arm\u00e9n,
samma arm\u00e9 som vandaliserar
i Ukraina idag. <\/p>\n
Jag skall aldrig finna fred f\u00f6r min sj\u00e4l
som snart \u00e5terkomma hem i Karelia.
Kanske vi kan h\u00e5lla varandra s\u00e4llskap
och promenerar tillsammans
vid stranden av Finska viken,
plockar upp smultron i skogen
som min mamma gjorde.<\/p>\n
Och en vacker dag ska vi g\u00e5 till Petersburg, eller hur,
var min mormor f\u00f6dd och visiterar
utanf\u00f6r hennes skola, kanske samma skol
som du har g\u00e5tt p\u00e5.
Mellantid n\u00e4r jag \u00e4r still p\u00e5 v\u00e4g
du kan sitta p\u00e5 din tr\u00e4dg\u00e5rdssoffa
och solar sig med ett litet brev
av l\u00e4ngtan i barmen.
\u00a9 Yelling Rosa
29\/7\u201322<\/p>\n
You indeed had a hard life,
But one thing, you have had more than me.
You had the opportunity to live
In your homeland, in Karelia,
From where my whole family was chased away
By the brutal red army,
The same military that vandalizes
In Ukraine today. <\/p>\n
I shall never find peace for my soul
That will soon return home to Karelia.
Maybe we can keep each other company
And walk together on the shores of the Gulf of Finland,
Picking up strawberries in the forest
Like my mother did. <\/p>\n
And one day we’ll go to Petersburg, won’t we,
Where my grandmother was born
And visit outside her school,
Maybe the same school
You have attended.
Meanwhile when
I’m still on the road
You can sit on your garden sofa
And bask with a little letter
Of longing in the bosom.
\u00a9 Yelling Rosa
29\/7\u201322<\/p>\n