I don't want to write in Estonian any more. This language has lost its soul, becoming a tightly controlled and endlessly engineered variety on Standard Average European. To quote the late Estonian-Swedish poet Ivar Grünthal:
... och dvärger läser lagen
för dig, mitt hemlands vackra vilda sprak.
... and dwarves lecture you
beautiful and wild language of my homeland.
My Estonian is extinct, unfortunately I am too old to adopt another language, although I have written some poetry and prose in English and Russian. And, of course, in Võru keel, the half-extinct language of my ancestors.
Once I wrote a long poem called Hinge tagasitulek (Soul's returning), it's there I tell how the Estonians gave away their souls. It's not just the Estonians, most of us live in a soulless world. The poem is a kind of an attempt to call back, to summon the soul we have lost. In this way it has some parallels with the famous Chinese poem attributed to Qu Yuan "Summoning the Soul". I didn't think of it when I wrote my own poem. I thought about shamans who sometimes had to go to another world to find out, to bring back the soul of a sick person. He/she was sick because his/her soul had been stolen, taken to another world by some malevolent spirits. It's what has happened to us.