Edith Södergran


Born
in St. Petersburg, Russian Federation
April 04, 1892

Died
June 24, 1923

Genre


Edith Irene Södergran was a Swedish-speaking Finnish poet.

Södergran was born in St Petersburg in 1892. In 1907, Edith's father died from tuberculosis and in the following year, Edith was also diagnosed with the disease. She was sent to a sanatorium, but did not feel at ease there. The feelings of captivity caused by the disease and the sanatorium are a recurring theme in her poetry.

In October 1911, Edith and her mother traveled to Arosa in Switzerland where Edith was examined by different doctors. After a few months, she was transferred to the Davos-Dorf sanatorium. In May 1912, her condition had improved enough for her to return home. Eventually, the disease returned and Edith Södergran died in 1923 in her home in Raivola. She was 31 years
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Average rating: 4.05 · 1,320 ratings · 75 reviews · 61 distinct worksSimilar authors
Complete Poems

4.21 avg rating — 462 ratings — published 1949 — 19 editions
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Edith Södergrans dikter

4.34 avg rating — 105 ratings — published 1916 — 6 editions
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Runoja

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4.03 avg rating — 116 ratings — published 1942 — 3 editions
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Tulevaisuuden varjo

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3.89 avg rating — 84 ratings — published 1920 — 3 editions
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Love and Solitude: Selected...

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4.07 avg rating — 69 ratings — published 1916 — 5 editions
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Landet som icke är

3.92 avg rating — 61 ratings — published 1925 — 5 editions
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Dikter och aforismer

4.17 avg rating — 53 ratings — published 1990 — 2 editions
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Septemberlyran

4.03 avg rating — 38 ratings — published 1918 — 2 editions
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Kultaiset linnut

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3.71 avg rating — 38 ratings — published 1991
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Levottomia unia

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4.03 avg rating — 32 ratings
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More books by Edith Södergran…
“The inner fire is the most important thing mankind possesses.”
Edith Södergran

“My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am.”
Edith Södergran

“Love

My soul was a light-blue gown, sky-coloured;
I left it on a cliff by the sea
and naked I came to you, resembling a woman.
And like a woman I sat at your table
and drank a toast with wine and breathed in the scent of several roses.
You found me beautiful, resembling something you'd seen dreaming,
I forgot everything, I forgot my childhood and my homeland,
I knew only that your caresses held me captive.
And, smiling, you took up a mirror and bade me look.
I saw that my shoulders were made of dust and crumbled away,
I saw that my beauty was sick and had no desire other than to - disappear.
Oh, hold me close in your arms, so tightly that I need nothing.”
Edith Södergran, Poems

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