*tuule makett - Infopoint Estonian Culture

2 3 3 / Tõnu Õnnepalu
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There is no freedom spring air
glowing and surging around us
on this festival of the last melting snow
when the alder catkins
are heavy with yellow dust
and the earth is heavy with water
and eyes feel heavy with the beauty of light
when joy
comes and races
hands free down the hill
the lark falls through the air
when the sky
enfolds us into its perfect void
whose colours have no name
blue blue blue
a thousand times everything
with different meanings but
the dead grass and the earth
smell as for the first time in my life
and the pines
begin to rustle
when suddenly
an ice-cold damp gust of wind comes from the sea
and the pinetops sway in the sky
as if in the midst of a great sadness
for there is no freedom