English Poems 1

© Anna Lilja 2001

Crystal (translated by me and Tim Abbot)

A small crystal,

which reflects the sunlight more than thousand times,

is in my hand.

With sight full of love,

I look at it,

wondering how strong it is.

And I am thinking:

"It's strength is to be nonrecurring"

Or do you think

it would be great to live here

if we were all the same?

Like snow crystals

we all are unique.

Would we love our life

if we weren't?

Free (translated by me and Mark Stillito)

Here I am,

in the middle of the storm,

which loudly blows around me.

Here I am,

timidly holding on to the little feather

which lies softly in my hand

with all its power and strength, like gold.

Here I am,

thinking how much this feather means to me,

Only when the storm has taken her

in wild circles from my hand,

I see how much she meant to me,

because my world begins to turn up side down.

And I see how

taking and giving

holding and letting go,

being strong and weak

are bound together.

I am tottering,

the storm takes me,

I lose the ground under my feet

and the hold the feather gave me.

But I suddenly feel,

that everything is alright

and I allow the storm to take me away.

First with the storm,

then as the storm

and like my feather:

Flying and free!

Butterfly (translated by me and Tim Abbot)

Yellow, with shining wings,

soft like a feather,

resting on my arm.

Butterfly, tell me,

how many humans admired you?

How many threw stones at you?


your life is dangerous,

not so long

but full of adventures.


we are similar,

more than you can believe

your wings, your adventures,

the fantasy

my wings, my adventures...

With soft wings he flies away

to the next flower.

Butterfly, we are similar!


The fog of time disintegrates

and the one who allows magic and mystic

can see the reality:

The sea of Avalon!

The water lighted,

Illluminated by the golden colour of dreams;

the waves which are built by the storm of love;

the mountains from the stone of which dreams consist,

lost and mystical,full of power...


the mystery of hope and dreams!


Who never knew what friendship is,

won't know how it feels

to laugh together and to cry together,

won't know how it feels

to hold and be held.

Who never knew what friendship is,

won't know how it feels

to hear the other heart's voice,

won't know how it feels

to share all the things you can't describe.

Who never knew what friendship is

will live with just a half of his life!


To be different,

One often hears that.

To be different.... not to be normal...

for someone: just a word,

for someone: a hurting feeling

for someone: doing things in other ways

for someone: Not playing a game that everyone else plays.

Even if you ARE different you feel what this word means.

Even in that moment you see:

To be different is nothing than a word.

It's only a word,

a word that can hurt.

You'll even feel what this word means,

when it's too late