The speaker pictures Minna’s body as a closed fan holding brush-strokes of glowing calm. She seems still, contained, and beautiful without needing to speak. But when she does speak, her words clumsily open the fan, letting out old, forgotten doubts like a faint rustling. Her soul, though, holds the fan lightly and waves toward a mirror that its blind eyes cannot touch. There is something distant and elusive here: the speaker admires Minna’s quiet power, yet feels shut out from her inner self. The mood is intimate but strange, mixing tenderness with a kind of wistful frustration, as if he can sense her grace without ever fully reaching it.
Minna XXI — Summary
Your body is a closed fan Holding long brush-strokes of glowing repose. Your words clumsily unloosen the fan And it dips to the rustling birth of forgotten doubts. Your soul bears the fan lightly in his hand And waves to the mirror his blind eyes cannot touch.