Betti Alver Poems

Yesterday in drizzling rain
on the road,
depression came
with its scissors open.
...

A shimmering rainbow's high ridge
arched over the river that day.
We stood on the cast-iron bridge;
ahead lay your iron-paved way.
...

Not the dream of a disordered brain
or a victim's soft tender shell -
but a colossally grand hotel
that's my skeletal frame.
...

When sober, Dad played music in a band.
He pressed a flute into my childish palm.
I learnt to read the music on his stand
...

The wind won't ask: to what did life amount?
To yourself you'll render your own account.

However long, however dark the night -
your forehead bears your name in plain sight.
...