.: Der ewige Freide ist ein Traum, und nicht einmal e...

.: Der ewige Freide ist ein Traum, und nicht einmal e...: Everlasting peace is a dream,  and not even a pleasant one;  Say some... do they think ? Look at Africa... Very bad, how can be summar...

.: I doubt, therefore I think...

.: I doubt, therefore I think...: Genius ?  At this moment... A hundred thousand brains are dreaming they're geniuses like me, And it may be that history won't remember...

I doubt, therefore I think...

Genius ? 


At this moment...
A hundred thousand brains are dreaming
they're geniuses like me,
And it may be that history won't remember even one...

.: The world is not a 'prison house', but a kind of k...

.: The world is not a 'prison house', but a kind of k...: This covers me, that erst had the blue sky. Put these inscriptions here, half knowing why...

The world is not a 'prison house', but a kind of kindergarten, where millions of bewildered infants are trying to spell God with the wrong blocks...

This covers me, that erst had the blue sky.
Put these inscriptions here, half knowing why...

.: Vann:

.: Vann:: Hva er det? Så skal en stråleglans fra deg igjen avspeiles her i oss? Ti når jeg deg i hjerte bær, da ses det av hvis slekt jeg er...

.: Alt er elektroner, sier de vise. Kraftfelt, virvle...

.: Alt er elektroner, sier de vise. Kraftfelt, virvle...: Hun sa: I går var mitt legeme en deilig drakt, Og som jeg kjente så godt og som jeg ofte fant grå. Nå er det et kostbart skrud, min kropp...

Alt er elektroner, sier de vise. Kraftfelt, virvlende atomkjerner i avsindig hastigheter i det fullstendige tomme rom. Da er det vi spør oss selv... Hvor kommer så tannpinen fra eller gleden over den første softisen tidlig i April ? Si oss det...

Hun sa: I går var mitt legeme en deilig drakt,
Og som jeg kjente så godt og som jeg ofte fant grå.
Nå er det et kostbart skrud, min kropp... 
Som jo er tung av sprakt, 'fet og valker' uff...
Og selv om jeg synes jeg likt et barn har festdrakt på.

 Det som jeg alltid kalte en liten ting,
Det tilba du som en sjelden og hellig skatt,
Og dine kjærtegn laget en gyllen ring
Om mine lemmer til minne om denne natt.

Jeg er ditt verk, jeg er preget så inderlig dypt av deg.
At jeg søkte ennå en gang en tilfeldig favn.
For din skjebne kalte deg fra min vei,
Så vil jeg nevne min elskede ved ditt navn...

.: Why were you born when the snow was falling ? You...

.: Why were you born when the snow was falling ? You...: How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale ! How cheerfully he seems...

Why were you born when the snow was falling ? You should have come to the cuckoo's calling, Or when grapes are green in the cluster. Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster... For their far off flying. From summer dying. So why did you die when the lambs were cropping ? You should have died at the apples' dropping. When the grasshopper comes to trouble, And the weat-fields are sodden stubble. And all winds go sighing... For sweet things dying.

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale !

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spread his claws,
And welcomes little fish in,
With gently smiling jaws !

.: They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, L...

.: They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, L...: They are not long, the days of wine and roses; Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, Then closes within a dream.

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate; I think they have no portion in use after ... We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses;
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while,
Then closes within a dream.

.: Somewhere or Other there must surly be the face no...

.: Somewhere or Other there must surly be the face no...: The heart that not yet - never yet - ah me ! Made answer to my word. Somewhere or other, may be near or far; Past land and sea, clean...

Somewhere or Other there must surly be the face not seen, the voice not heard...

The heart that not yet - never yet - ah me !
Made answer to my word.

Somewhere or other, may be near or far;
Past land and sea, clean out of sight;
Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star
That tracks her night by night.

Somewhere or other, may be far or near;
With just a wall, a hedge, between;
With just the last leaves of the dying year
Fallen on a turf grown green.

.: I cannot tell you how it was; But this I know: It ...

.: I cannot tell you how it was; But this I know: It ...: Upon a bright and breezy day when April was young; ah pleasant Spring! As yet the poppies were not born Between the blades of tender cor...

I cannot tell you how it was; But this I know: It came to pass...

Upon a bright and breezy day
when April was young; ah pleasant Spring!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last eggs had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird foregone its mate.

I cannot tell you what it was;
But this I know; it did but pass.
It passed away with sunny April.
With all sweet things it passed away,
And left me old, and cold, and grey...

.: Sommer...?

.: Sommer...?: Trærne svulmer de av sommer ? Under den blå himmel Hester beiter Er det sommer ? Solen funkler. Lyset skummer Med vind i himmelens bun...

Sommer...?

Trærne svulmer de av sommer ?
Under den blå himmel
Hester beiter
Er det sommer ?
Solen funkler.
Lyset skummer
Med vind i himmelens bunn... 

.: If you open that Pandora's Box, you never know wha...

.: If you open that Pandora's Box, you never know wha...: I have a pine like a terrible cold. And everyone knows how terrible colds, Change the whole structure of the universe, Making us sore of...

.: Mats ! Jeg er redd, du detter ned fra denne spink...

.: Mats ! Jeg er redd, du detter ned fra denne spink...: Mine små fyrstikker De er farlige de... Det er bedre å ha en eske av  dem i min lomme enn å sove med  brannsprøyter i huset. De er til ...

.: A Match with the Moon...

.: A Match with the Moon...: Weary already, weary miles to-night I walked for bed; and so, to get some ease, I dogged the flying moon with similes In ponds; and caug...

A Match with the Moon...

Weary already, weary miles to-night
I walked for bed; and so, to get some ease,
I dogged the flying moon with similes
In ponds; and caught in tree-tops like a kite;
And in a globe of film all liquorish
Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish;-
Last like a bubble shot the welkin's height
Where my road turned, and got behind me, and sent
My wizened shadow craning round at me,
And jeered, 'So, step the measure, - one two there !'
And if I faced on her, looked innocent.
But just at parting, halfway down a dell,
She kissed me for good-night. So you'll not tell.

.: Vann: Hva er det ?

.: Vann: Hva er det ?: Så skal en stråleglans fra deg igjen avspeiles her i oss... Ti når jeg deg i hjerte bærer, da ses det av hvis slekt jeg er. Ei noen...

.: One God is born. Others die. Truth did not come or...

.: One God is born. Others die. Truth did not come or...: Shall I finish or break it off, Suffer life till the end, though so rough ? Mostly out of accord with myself By my own Or another's fau...

.: The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, - Shak...

.: The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, - Shak...: Between my knees my forehead was, - My lips drawn in, said not Alas ! My hair was over in the grass, My naked ears heard the day pass. ...

The wind flapped loose, the wind was still, - Shaken out dead from tree and hill , - I had walked on at the wind's will, - I sat now, for the wind was still.

Between my knees my forehead was, -
My lips drawn in, said not Alas !
My hair was over in the grass,
My naked ears heard the day pass.

My eyes, wide open, had the run
Of some ten weeds to fix upon;
Among those few, out of the sun,
The woodspurge flowered, three cups in one.

From perfect grief there need not be
Wisdom or even memory:
One thing then learnt remains to me, -
The woodspurge has a cup of three...

WOODSPURGE

.: Nå bøyer natten sitt mørke bryst over jordens slet...

.: Nå bøyer natten sitt mørke bryst over jordens slet...: Kjærtegn som ikke gjengjeldes, Ord, som har gått seg vill av ord... Hvor møtes de ? Hvor ? Hjemløse fugler, jaget av vinter, Fant i e...

Nå bøyer natten sitt mørke bryst over jordens sletter og alt befruktes av stjernedryss under mytenes netter.

Kjærtegn som ikke gjengjeldes,
Ord, som har gått seg vill av ord...
Hvor møtes de ? Hvor ?


Hjemløse fugler, jaget av vinter,
Fant i et fremmed sted
Varme og fred ?


Fløy vi med fuglsinn
Trygt i hjerte inn ?
Fant vi fattige, Trøst ?
Hvem er vi ?
Er vi fattige ? På hva da ?
Kjærlighet ? 
Menneskelighet ?

.: I solen...

.: I solen...: Du lyse kvinne på dagens vei, Er du den samme, som du dengang jeg kjente ? Du den månehvite på nattens seng... Du går i panser av sol...

I solen...

Du lyse kvinne på dagens vei,
Er du den samme, som du dengang
jeg kjente ?
Du den månehvite på nattens seng...


Du går i panser av sol og silke,
du den formfullendte...
Og klart er blikket for å nekte
at noe hendte...


Og kjølig skjuler du dine skatter,
bak klær så fine.
Som var troll-gult som solen
smeltet i varmens hete.


Og ditt hjerte hvisket:
Vannviddtanker finnes kjærlighet ? 
Kan du i din ranke og lyse rustning
overvinnes ?


At du min venn, som blir svelget av
mengdens blikk, og vraker alle,
Tilsist skal rammes av mannens øye
og ydmykt falle !

.: I have seen him before... Or ?

.: I have seen him before... Or ?: I have been here before. But when or how I cannot tell; I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet, keen smell. The sighing sound, the...

I have seen him before... Or ?

I have been here before.
But when or how I cannot tell;
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet, keen smell.
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before -
How long ago I may not know;
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
some veil did fall, - I knew it all of yore.

Do you remember ? I do...
Has this been thus before ?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives love restore...
And day and night yield one delight once more ?

.: Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life ...

.: Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life ...: The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes, Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town, I sit me down. For want of me the world's cour...

Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life and great repose, Where, twice a day...

The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world's course will not fail;
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his wife up in a box,
When she said, "Let me out" he exclaimed, 
"Without doubt,
You will pass all your life in that box"

There was an old man who screamed out
Whenever they knocked him about;
So they took off his boots, and fed him with fruits,
And continued to knock him about.

.: " I Am" Or ?...

.: " I Am" Or ?...: I am - yet what I am, none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory pin;- I am the self-consumer of my woes;- They rise and v...

" I Am" Or ?...

I am - yet what I am, none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory pin;-
I am the self-consumer of my woes;-
They rise and vanish in oblivion's host,
Like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes;-
And yet I am, and live - like vapours tost.


Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, -
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life esteems;
Even the dearest, that I love the best.
Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest.


I long for scenes, where man never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept,
There to abide with my Creator, God;
And sleep as I in childhood, sweetly slept,
Untroubling, and untroubled where I lie,
The grass below - above the vaulted sky.

.: After you speak...

.: After you speak...: After you speak And what you meant Is plain, My eyes Meet yours that mean - With your cheeks and hair - Something more wise, More da...

After you speak...

After you speak
And what you meant
Is plain,
My eyes
Meet yours that mean -
With your cheeks and hair -
Something more wise,
More dark,
And far different.
Even so the lark
Loves dust 
And nestles in it
The minute
Before he must
Soar in lone flight
So far,
Like a black star
He seems -
A mote
Of singing dust
Afloat
Above,
That dreams
Ans sheds no light.
I know your lust
Is love.

.: Nederlaget er som det visne løvet - - - av den mul...

.: Nederlaget er som det visne løvet - - - av den mul...: Guds hjerte vet vi ikke, men vi vet noe som oversvømmer oss som et regn over oss.

Nederlaget er som det visne løvet - - - av den muld skal vi gro.

Guds hjerte vet vi ikke,
men vi vet noe som
oversvømmer oss
som et regn over oss.

.: Det er bedre å gå til hodet enn til halen !... It ...

.: Det er bedre å gå til hodet enn til halen !... It ...: I lay on the edge of a green-coloured  world. Etched on the sky, stood pine-tree and fir. Bees kept busying. So it was, I suppose, ...

.: .: Unge menn vil være trofaste, men er det ikke; G...

.: .: Unge menn vil være trofaste, men er det ikke; G...: .: Unge menn vil være trofaste, men er det ikke; Gaml... : "Lett som lys må vi være, Og kalle som brenningenes skum, For bølgene vil ikke ...

.: Blåklokker og prestekrager, blomster og blad i hus...

.: Blåklokker og prestekrager, blomster og blad i hus...: Noen ligger under dyner. Tør ikke møte dagen i dag. Noen puster under ving. Noen tør ikke puste. Noen har spisse tryner. Noen tør ikke...

.: God dag ! Å for en dag...

.: God dag ! Å for en dag...: Dagen i dag... Dagen er oppe, gleden er på oppegående, mismotet er vekk, ny uke med mange muligheter Stormen og sky-borgen er borte ov...

.: Hvis du detter ned og brekker begge beina, så bare...

.: Hvis du detter ned og brekker begge beina, så bare...: Sjelens hvile etter den fantastiske juletid. Å for en verden, å jeg kjenner meg øde og tom i sannhet som i en ørken vi er. Hvis aldri e...

.: Gud velsigne vår Herre, mumlet han Karl "Bærhua", ...

.: Gud velsigne vår Herre, mumlet han Karl "Bærhua", ...: Nattergalen vekte meg i grålysningen Dens toner skar i mitt øre... Det etter nattens øde... Nattergalen, Galen, galen... Med sin fløyte...

Gud velsigne vår Herre, mumlet han Karl "Bærhua", i målløs beundring for skaperens verk etter et par drammer med "Dunder".

Nattergalen vekte meg i grålysningen
Dens toner skar i mitt øre...
Det etter nattens øde...
Nattergalen,
Galen, galen...
Med sin fløyte tone av krystall,
Med sin drakt av frost og flammer.
Hvor smertefullt han sliper sin sang !
Fy, for en vemod det gir i mitt hode!
Etter en fantastisk kveld med jubel og sang,
Toget som stormer ut av Molbeks tunnelløp,
Med jubel og sang, å for en kveld.
Nattergalen, Galen, galen...
Å for en fest !
Med en kraft som skjærer som krystall i
Våre ører.
Nattergalen, Galen, galen...

.: The cherry trees bend over and are shedding on the...

.: The cherry trees bend over and are shedding on the...: By the ford at the town's edge Horse and carter rest; The carter smokes on the bridge Watching the water press in swathes about his hor...

The cherry trees bend over and are shedding on the old road where all that passed dead, Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding this early April morn when there is none to wed...

By the ford at the town's edge
Horse and carter rest;
The carter smokes on the bridge
Watching the water press in swathes
about his horse's chest.

From the inn one watches, too,
In the room for visitors
That has no fire, but a view
And many cases of stuffed fish,
vermin, and kingfishers.

.: Morning has broken - Like the first morning, Black...

.: Morning has broken - Like the first morning, Black...: In the gloom of whiteness, In the great silence of snow, A child was sighing  And bitterly saying; 'Oh, They have killed a withe bird u...

Morning has broken - Like the first morning, Blackbird has spoken - Like the first bird. Praise for the singing ! Praise for the morning ! Praise for them, Springing - fresh from the Lord !

In the gloom of whiteness,
In the great silence of snow,
A child was sighing 
And bitterly saying; 'Oh,
They have killed a withe bird up there on her nest,
The downs is fluttering from her breast.'
And still it fell through that dusky brightness
On the child crying for the bird of the snow...