Passion and the pen

Blue Gold


I walk now as a secret
My home is at the blue gold
I master the winds in silence
No storm surprises me anymore
I will never again chase anyone
Whispering goodbye I will go
And build a ship around myself
To keep on living and to be free
I am friends with the waves now
Do you know?
And the sea is holding my soul
Holding my soul, my blue gold.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

Sometimes strangers are friends


Sometimes strangers are friends
And this is the poem
Just one sentence
Sometimes strangers are friends.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

Free Moonlight


You know. When something out of your
control moves you towards him. When his
hand instinctively reaches for yours and
you meet him without any thought or
reflection, you just take his hand like it’s
the most natural thing on earth to do. And
you know, when his hug makes you feel
safe and you want to stay there under his
arm forever and when you come home and
can smell his scent on your shoulder of all
his hugging and you just want to smell
your shoulder to feel his scent. Yes, it’s
when you find yourself inhaling him and
loving it, when you know. You are in love.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

You are a letter


You are a letter
written on my heart
I carry you with me
Your words are echoing inside of me
My soul is comforted and held by you
by your words in your letter
written on my heart
Not many but meaningful
Not big but deep
Not shiny but solid
Beautiful and honest
They are love
Not because they excel in perfection
but because the words are yours
You are the most beautiful letter
written on my broken heart
and maybe you don’t know it
but you are healing me.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

A sigh


A dream can fade away
as a moment
as a sigh
and leave behind
something that resembles and feels
like cooled air after a breath
A wing scale without colour and scent
that swirls somewhere in the air
A dream now as only a memory.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

Reversed elegy



Madness sings a silent tone
once alone but now I belong
Madness lives in a violent mode
suddenly it sparkles out of nothing
Madness sees with blinded eyes
in a light too bright to see –
Madness waits for no ones command
it has a powerful storm inside its core
Embrace this madness of falling
blindly into a wonderful abyss
And be mad –
be mad in love.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

With you


With you
I would
I don’t know why
But the thought of you
Makes all fears go away
And I would
With you
I would
Give all of me
Without any doubt
Even if for just one moment
I would
Love you
Make love to you
We would be one
And disappear into our love
Maybe it is just my dream
But I know
If you walked towards me now
I would embrace you like we have never
been apart and like we always loved
I would kiss you
Like it would be the most natural thing to do
even though we have never kissed
And I would let your arms touch me
And I would not think about where we are
Because I have waited for so long
I long for making love to you
Kiss you
Look into your eyes and touch your soul
I have this love for you in me
All the time
It is with me
You are with me
I long for giving myself to you
Are you on your way?
And would you?

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

A smile


He said to me…
I have been waiting for your eyes

If you only knew what your eyes are saying
I would need many lexicons to explain…
And in my eyes…
you are the most beautiful woman
and you are with me all the time.

And he painted the most beautiful pictures
with his language of love, for me.
Fast and instantly.

And he whispered to me…
My heart lives with you
Without you knowing, my heart has been
living with you for a long time.

And he wanted, love.
Saying, I Love You
when he barely knew me…

I hesitated. This storm was too fast.
I was not ready. I still have to be free.

He calmed me and said,
Honey, if I can’t have you as my love,
I do not want to loose you as a friend.

I searched for stillness, I looked within.
I listened. And I knew…

I couldn’t choose him for my lover,
because he was destined to be my friend.

(Sirle Körvits, 2017)

The poem my heart forgot


This is a translation of a poem I wrote in swedish, 2015; the original version is under the page “Dikter”:



Starwaterfall and glittering steps
among little faintred signpostmarks.
The songs echoing rhythm in a melody
follows me when I flee to the light of the sea.

I want to find the poem my heart forgot
and feel the scent of its new-born’ness.
I have to find myself in the rain
my burning tears have crushed.

Don’t be so longingly warm, my heart
The tears will not cool it down –
The fire defies a violent fight
with myself and the poem in me.

I can not find the poem
that my heart forgot
without finding myself
who went lost in life.


I maybe will find the poem
my heart forgot –
When I take off my shoes
and stroll in the forest and by the lake

novemberdestiny hanging over me.

Can it be that it hides itself
beside the footsteps of another like me;
a friend with a poem in his heart
but with hands empty as mine.


The lightsoldiers shine beside the road
under a weak glowing moonhaze;
I only have one glove, one hand naked
which freezes in a longing numbness
and wants to write the poem my heart forgot.


There is a flower-meadow
inside every frozen raindrop!
I know it, I am a poet.

On the frozen asphalt my steps feel like
naked feet on a fragrant oasis.

Every streetlight has its own little sun
which is guarded by the soldier under light.
Its own chaos theory inside every petal
which has died to be reborn in its time.

There is a flower-meadow
inside every frozen heart
There has to be, yes! There is.
Towards a frozen heart I shoot an arrow
it is warm, my friend, formed by words,
naked skin to skin!


I can not find it –
I, a tigress! Maybe torned apart
the poem when I dreamed?

Or the cubs chewed it to pieces?

Maybe the society sprayed poison into it!
No originality! No character!
Nothing that a poem must have! Aha!

But it is and it’s clawed at my heart;
shall it bleed there?


The poem my heart forgot
turned out to be my own self.
The life I thought I lived
in the light of the Truth
was a different life completely.

It was a lie –
that you, my dear, embedded me in.
It was a slaughter –
that you, who I loved, executed
inside of me.

(Sirle Körvits, 2015)

Cold hands



My hands are often cold
It is maybe because
All the warmth is in my heart…
I didn’t know what to say
When you asked.
Because someone recently claimed
That my heart is warm.

(Sirle Körvits, 2016)


(the original, in swedish)

Mina händer är ofta kalla
Det kanske är för att
All värme är i mitt hjärta…
Jag visste inte vad jag skulle säga
När du frågade.
Då någon nyligen hävdade
Att mitt hjärta är varmt.

(Sirle Körvits, 2016)