I was / is not myself, I was in Moss. Put the child safe stool with nature, Happy alone at the open fjord. The low clear sky and oceans was taken down and packed on paper Then slowly the shadow of a clover leaf. And I got the eye for nature. Everything jumped as doors - I drew and wrote, I would not, that the dream was to fly. I was stubborn, I held it tight. I sat there as a youth with the world like a dog for my feet.

The gods grant us this one
Liberty; to submit ourselves
To their dominion by an act of will.
It is better that we do this
Since only in its illusion
Does freedom find existence.

The gods, on whom fate eternal
Weighs do not act otherwise
In their calm and ancient
Self-possessed conviction
That their life's divine and free.

Imitating gods, we, as little
Free as they up on Olympus,
Like those who on the sands
Build castles for the eye's delight -
Let us build our life so that
the gods will know how to thank us
For being their co-equals.