I am Finnish, but I don’t write in Finnish. I am barely capable of communicating in Finnish, but today I felt like I had to try writing in that language that my parents speak. I am afraid that my poetry won’t do justice for the Finnish language and they won’t do justice to me either. They’re raw and full of visceral ideas that could be left unsaid, but who the hell cares? This is what I sound like in Finnish.
The poem is called “HJ”, the abbreviation for Hitler Youth. This already looks promising, doesn’t it?
(A translation will be provided below.)
Hitler-Jugend marssii parvekkeellani
.rupean vastarintaan!
otan haulikkoni ja ammun aivoni pihalle,
lasten leikkikentälle
Hitler-Jugend alkaa runkkaamaan.
hän polvistuu
ja survoo pienen pippelinsä ampumahaavaani
hän päästää suustaan hiljaisen voihkaisun
täyttäen kalloni siemennesteellä
ja marssi jatkuu….
ruhostani kasvaa yksinäinen
valkoinen ruusu
HJ in English (as translated from above)
This Hitler Youth kid is marching on my balcony
RESISTANCE–
I take my shotgun and blow my brains out
my brain flies past a children’s playground
So, The Hitler Youth kid starts jerkin’ it
He kneels down
and rams his puny junk into my gunshot wound
He let’s out a silent sigh
and fills what’s left of my head with his semen
The march carries on….
and a lonesome
White Rose grows
from my bones.
Helsinki Poet 
One of the best (almost alliterative) rhymes I’ve ever heard. It’s right up there with “Like a pet shop without gerbils, like Hitler without Goebbels”.
I, of course, mean: “I take my shotgun and blow my brains out
my brain flies past a children’s playground”
Loved it. Short and dark. Brisk and bloody. Mmm.
It was bloody fun to write this to say the least.
It was the first time I felt truly bilingual in my whole life.
Glad you enjoyed it!