From the series « April Is the Cruelest Month »
”April is the cruellest month, revealing
junks out of the dead land, dazzling
with a heavy light of north, splashing
between stones of the street on rainy day in spring.
After the snow covered winter, dawning
ruthless potshot and bang, rising
new and disappearing
T.S. Eliot’s poem ”The Burial of the Dead” paraphrasing Raimo Ahonen.