.: Og nå står bjerken i brudeslør, og fuglene er serv...

.: Og nå står bjerken i brudeslør, og fuglene er serv...: The wood-lark O where, what can that be ? Weedio-weedio: there again! So tiny a trickle of song-strain; And all round not to be foun...

.: Life is like a very short visit to a toy shop betw...

.: Life is like a very short visit to a toy shop betw...: Let the world's sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm to others In this close hand of Love, now soft and w...

.: Evil is everywhere on earth, and one of its forms ...

.: Evil is everywhere on earth, and one of its forms ...: Whether or not they exist, we're slaves to the gods... I doubt, Therefore I think...

.: I always say beauty is only sin deep... But the co...

.: I always say beauty is only sin deep... But the co...: The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

.: Og nå står bjerken i brudeslør, og fuglene er serv...

.: Og nå står bjerken i brudeslør, og fuglene er serv...: The wood-lark O where, what can that be ? Weedio-weedio: there again! So tiny a trickle of song-strain; And all round not to be foun...

Og nå står bjerken i brudeslør, og fuglene er servitører ! Så har alle sin egen stemme fått, selv breen smiler og klukker og alle har sine yndefulle melodier, bekkene klukker fra fuglmunn, plantene i skrud... Er vi ikke fine ! Den Gud må være stor, som har slike musikanter... På en Mai som morgen og aftenstid viser Guds himmel i glede og glans.

The wood-lark

O where, what can that be ?
Weedio-weedio: there again!
So tiny a trickle of song-strain;

And all round not to be found
For brier, bough, furrow, or green ground
Before or behind or far at hand
Either left either right
Anywhere in the sunlight.


Well, after all! Ah but hark -
I am the little woodlark.
the skylark is my cousin and he 
Is known to men more than me.
Round a ring, around a ring
And while I sail (must listen) I sing.




To-day the sky is two and two
With white strokes and strains of the blue
The blue wheat-acre is underneath
And the corn is corded and shoulders its sheaf,
The ear in milk, lust the sash,
And crush-silk poppies a flash,
The blood-gush blade-gash
Flame-rash
Bud shelling or broad-shed
Tatter-tangled and dingle-a-dangled
Dandy-hung dainty head.

And down ... the furrow dry
Sung spurge and ox-eye
And lace-leaved lovely
Foam-tuft fumitory.


I am so very, O so very glad
That I do think there is not to be had
Anywhere any more joy to be in.
'Cheevio' when the cry within
Says Go on then I go on
Till the longing is less and the good gone,
But down drop, if it says Stop,
To the all-a-leaf of the treetop.
And after that off the bough
'Hover-float to the hedge brow.'

Through the velvety wind V-winged
'Where shake shadow is sun's-eye-ringed'
To the nest's nook I balance and buoy
With a sweet joy of a sweet joy,
Sweet, of a sweet, of a sweet joy
Of a sweet - a sweet - sweet - joy.'

.: Det er vond kost å ete sine egene ord !...

.: Det er vond kost å ete sine egene ord !...: Der christliche Entschluss,  die welt hasslich und schlecht zu finden, hat die Welt hasslich und schlecht  gemacht. The Christian r...

.: Det felles store fund... Lå på ensomhetens bunn.

.: Det felles store fund... Lå på ensomhetens bunn.: Det var en gang... Moss som den engang var ! Men deiligst av alle gleder er gleden for slett ingen ting. Ikke for noe du kan eller...

.: Hvem vet ! En lysere fremtid gror i smilets spor...

.: Hvem vet ! En lysere fremtid gror i smilets spor...: She dips her bill in the rim of the sea. Her beak is the ellipse of a world much smaller than the far section of the sea's circumference...

Hvem vet ! En lysere fremtid gror i smilets spor...

She dips her bill in the rim of the sea.
Her beak is the ellipse of a world much
smaller than the far section of the sea's
circumference.
A curve enough to calculate the field's
circle and its heart of eggs in the cold grass.

All day while I scythed my territory
out of nettles, laid claim to my cant-ref,
she has cut her share of sky. Her song
bubbles long as a plane trail from her 
savage mouth.
I clean the blade with newspaper. Dusk
blurs circle within circle till there's nothing left
but the egg pulsing in the dark against her ribs.
For each of us the possessed space contracts
to the nest's heat, the blood's small circuit...

.: Every time I write a story I lose a friend...

.: Every time I write a story I lose a friend...: Joy, beautiful radiance of the gods, daughter of Elysium, We set foot in your heavenly shrine dazzled by your brilliance. Your charms re...

Every time I write a story I lose a friend...

Joy, beautiful radiance of the gods,
daughter of Elysium,
We set foot in your heavenly shrine dazzled
by your brilliance.
Your charms re-united what common use has
harshly divided;
All men become brothers under your tender
wings...

.: A husband is what is left of a lover, after the ne...

.: A husband is what is left of a lover, after the ne...: It is not all that bad, is it ? Please have a nice day.

A husband is what is left of a lover, after the nerve has been extracted...

It is not all that bad, is it ?


Please have a nice day.

.: The Mysterious of Them and Us... A small novel abo...

.: The Mysterious of Them and Us... A small novel abo...: We were in the magnificent grounds of our mysterious host. A feast had been laid out in the open air. There were many of us present. Some...

The Mysterious of Them and Us... A small novel about hunger and eating... And !...

We were in the magnificent grounds of our mysterious host.
A feast had been laid out in the open air.
There were many of us present. Some were already seated 
and some were standing behind those seated.
In a way there were too many of us for the food served,
or it felt like that.

There was a moment when it seemed that everyone would rush at the food  and we'd have to be barbaric and eat with our hands, fighting over feast laid out on the lovely tables. The moment of tension lasted a long time.

Our host did nothing, and said nothing.
No one was sure what to do. Insurrection brooded in the wind.
Then something strange happened. Those who were at table served 
themselves, and began eating. We ate calmly. My friend was sitting next to me.  The food was wonderful.

We ate some awareness of those behind us, who were not eating,
and who did not move. They merely watched us eating.
Did we who were eating feel guilty ? It was a complex feeling.
There is no way of resolving it as such. Those who were at table,
ate. That's all.

We ate a while. Then the people behind us began to murmur. One
of them, in a low voice, said: 'The first person who offers us some 
food will receive...' I was tempted to offer them some food. But how could I ? Where would I start ? The situation was impossible. If you turned around, you would see them all. Then your situation would be polarized. It would be you and them. But it was never that way to begin with. We were all at the feast.

It's just that you were at the table, and they didn't eat. They did nothing. They didn't even come over, take a plate, and serve themselves. No one told the to just stand there watching us eat. They did it to themselves.

So to turn around and offer them food would automatically be to see them, and treat them as inferior. When in fact they behaved in a manner that made things turn out that way.


And so we continued to eat, and ignored the murmurs. Soon we had
finished eating. What now ? We were satisfied, and took up the invitation to explore other parts of the estate. There was still plenty of food left, as it happened.

My friend and I were almost the last to leave the table. As we got up, I looked behind us. I was surprised to see only three people there. Was that all? They had seemed like more, like a crowd. Maybe there had been more of them, but they'd drifted off, given up, or died.

While we had been eating it had often occurred to me that there was
nothing to stop them from sticking knives into our backs...

My friend and I filled out with the others,
towards the gardens, in the sumptuous grounds of that magnificent
estate.
It had been a dreamy day !...

.: De rikeste stunder i menneskelivet er ikke ånden m...

.: De rikeste stunder i menneskelivet er ikke ånden m...: To a Prize Bird You suit me well; for you can make me laugh, Nor are you blinded by the chaff That every wind sends spinning from the r...

De rikeste stunder i menneskelivet er ikke ånden men hjertet forunt... Frykt ikke for i morgen, for i nattens mørke ligger solen begravet...

To a Prize Bird

You suit me well; for you can make me laugh,
Nor are you blinded by the chaff
That every wind sends spinning from the rick.

You know to think, and what you think you speak
With much of Samson's pride and bleak
Finality; and none dare bid you stop.

Pride sits you well, so strut, colossal bird.
No barnyard makes you look absurd;
Your brazen claws are staunch against defeat.

.: For vel kan skjebnen slå en man i kne. Men ydmykt ...

.: For vel kan skjebnen slå en man i kne. Men ydmykt ...: Goooood morning ! Thou cursed Cook, with thy perpetual Noyce. May'st thou be Capon made, and lose Voice, Or on a Dunghil may'st thou spe...

For vel kan skjebnen slå en man i kne. Men ydmykt bøie seg og ta til takke ? Jeg reiser heller stiv og stridig nakke og skriver et dikt i ny og ne.

Goooood morning !

Thou cursed Cook, with thy perpetual Noyce.
May'st thou be Capon made, and lose Voice,
Or on a Dunghil may'st thou spend Blood,
And Vermin prey upon thy craven Brood;
May Rivals tread thy Hens before thy Face,
Then with redoubled Courage give thee chase;
May'st thou be punish'd for St.Peter's Crime,
And on Shrove-tuesday, perish in thy Prime;
May thy bruis'd Carcass be some Beggar's Feast,
Thou first and worst Disturber of Man's Rest...

.: Tales of freedom: New man and new woman spoke in t...

.: Tales of freedom: New man and new woman spoke in t...: 'Now let's start again, 'said New Man. 'And again' 'Go back to the earth' 'To simple beginnings.' 'To what nourishes.' 'To what grows.'...

Tales of freedom: New man and new woman spoke in the darkness. they spoke like children discovering light. Much time had passed and no time at all.

'Now let's start again, 'said New Man.
'And again'
'Go back to the earth'
'To simple beginnings.'
'To what nourishes.'
'To what grows.'
'To sunlight.'
'And flowing water.'
'To inner light.'
'And fresh air.'
'Good breathing.'
'And sweet silence.'
'To new dancing.'
'And music.'

'Let's go back to the source,' said New Woman.
'Of rivers.'
'Of worlds.'
'Of dreams.'
'Of realities.'
'Of friendship.'
'Of fellowship.'
'Of what the heart feels.'

'Let's dream again,'said New Man.
'Like we used to as kids.'
'Of Eden when it was new.'
'And after we have restored it.'
'With love.'
'And courage.'
'With patience.'
'And wisdom.'

'Let's play again,' said New Woman.
'As on the first day.'
'When we were the garden.'
'And the garden was us.'

'Let's be happy again, 'said New Man.
'As on the first day.'
'When all love was ours.'
'As it still is.'
'And always will be,' they both said
together, as one...

Above also dedicated to my very best friend ever.

.: This is dedicated to my very best friend...

.: This is dedicated to my very best friend...: If, tonight, she scorns me for my song, You may be sure of this: within the year I will come and say this verse to her And she will yiel...

This is dedicated to my very best friend...

If, tonight, she scorns me for my song,
You may be sure of this: within the year
I will come and say this verse to her
And she will yield to me for its sad sweetness.


'''Then I am like the candle-bird''' he'll continue,
After explaining what a candle-bird is,
'''Whose lifeless eyes see nothing and see all,
 Lighting their small room with my burning tongue;


His shadow rears above hers on the wall
As hour by hour, and day by day, I pass into air.''
Take my hand. Now tell me: flesh or tallow ?
Which I am tonight, I leave to you.'


So take my hand and tell me, flesh or tallow.
Which man I am tonight I leave to you.

Wood lark whistles. Hogs carry straw.
Sky lark sings.
Young cucumber swells.
Frogs croak: spawn abounds.
Cold & black. Harsh, hazy day.
Backward apples begin to blow.
Frost, sun, fog, rain, snow. 
Bunting twitters.
No dew, rain, rain, rain.
Swans flounce & dive.
Chilly & dark
Dark & spitting. Indian flowers in Dec'r!
Ground very wet. The nightingale sings.

Blackcap sings. The sedge-bird a delicate polyglot.
The tit-lark begins to sing:  a sweet songster !
Turtle coos.
Asparagus begins to sprout.
Cuckoo cries.
No house-martins appear.

Apricots, peaches, & nectarines swell:
Sprinkled trees with water, & watered the roots.
Oaks are felled: the bark runs freely.
The leaves of the mulberry trees hardly begin to peep.
Showers, sun & clouds, brisky air.
Much hay spoiled: much not cut.

Put meadow hay in large cock.
Hay well made at last.
Sun, sweet day.

All things in a drowning condition !
Perhaps this to be continued...
If I which !

.: In dreams begins responsibility...

.: In dreams begins responsibility...: Think like a wise man but express yourself like the common people...

In dreams begins responsibility...

Think like a wise man but express
yourself like the common people...

.: Det felles store fund... Lå på ensomhetens bunn.

.: Det felles store fund... Lå på ensomhetens bunn.: Det var en gang... Moss som den engang var ! Men deiligst av alle gleder er gleden for slett ingen ting. Ikke for noe du kan eller...

.: I think I am an idealist. I don't know where I'm g...

.: I think I am an idealist. I don't know where I'm g...: Human life begins on the far side of despair. My thought is me; that's why I can't stop. I exist by what I think... And I can't prevent...

.: But I struck one cord of music, Like the sound of ...

.: But I struck one cord of music, Like the sound of ...: Seated one day at the organ, I was weary  and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys...

But I struck one cord of music, Like the sound of a great Amen...

Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary  and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys...

.: They never taste who always drink; They always tal...

.: They never taste who always drink; They always tal...: No, no; for my virginity, When I lost that, says Rose, I'll die: Behind the elms last night, cried Dick, Rose, were you not extremely sic...

They never taste who always drink; They always talk, who never think...

No, no; for my virginity,
When I lost that, says Rose, I'll die:
Behind the elms last night, cried Dick,
Rose, were you not extremely sick ?

.: Any statement is like a cheque drawn on a bank. I...

.: Any statement is like a cheque drawn on a bank. I...: Some quick to arm, some for adventure, some from fear of weakness, some from fear of censure, some for love of slaughter, in          i...

Any statement is like a cheque drawn on a bank. Its value depends on what is there to meet it...

Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in
         imagination learning later...
Some in fear, learning love of
         slaughter;

Died some, pro patria,
non 'dulce' non 'et decor' ...
walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men's lies, 
the unbelieving came home,
home to a lie.

Pull down the vanity
Thou art a beaten dog beneath the hail,
A swollen magpie in a fitful sun,
Half black half white
Nor knowst'ou wing from tail
Pull down the vanity,
Paquin, pull down !
The green casque has outdone your elegance.