.: Jeg snakket høyt med deg om det ingen i verden vet...

.: Jeg snakket høyt med deg om det ingen i verden vet...: ... For dagen er du, og lyset er du, solen er du, og sommeren er du, og hele det vakre, vakre, ventende livet er du !

Jeg snakket høyt med deg om det ingen i verden vet... På endeløse veier var du min ensomhet.

... For dagen er du,
og lyset er du,
solen er du,
og sommeren er du,
og hele det vakre,
vakre,
ventende livet er du !

.: THE SWEDISH COTTAGE...

.: THE SWEDISH COTTAGE...: Here, far from all the pomp ambition seeks, Much sought, but only whilst untasted prais'd, content and Innocence, with rosy cheeks, Enjo...

THE SWEDISH COTTAGE...

Here, far from all the pomp ambition seeks,
Much sought, but only whilst untasted prais'd,
content and Innocence, with rosy cheeks,
Enjoy the simple shed their hands have rais'd.


Behind, the forest fir is heard to sigh,
On which the pensive ear delights to dwell;
And, as the grazing goat looks up and rings his bell.
Oh ! in my native land, ere life's decline,
May such a spot, so wild, so sweet, be mine for ever !

.: From rock to rock, with giant-bound - High on thei...

.: From rock to rock, with giant-bound - High on thei...: The goats wind slow their wonted way, Up craggy steeps and ridges rude; Mark'd by the wild wolf for his prey, From desert cave or hangin...

From rock to rock, with giant-bound - High on their iron poles they pass; Mute, lest the air, convulsed by sound - Rend from above a frozen mass.

The goats wind slow their wonted way,
Up craggy steeps and ridges rude;
Mark'd by the wild wolf for his prey,
From desert cave or hanging wood.

And while the torrent thunder loud,
And as the echoing cliffs reply,
The huts peep o'er the morning cloud,
Perch'd, like an eagle's nest, on high.

.: My Blog (My Soul)

.: My Blog (My Soul)

.: El grito...

.: El grito...: La elipse de un grito va de monte a monte. Desde  los olivos, sera un arco iris negro sobre la noche azul. ;Ay! Como un arco d...

.: Grønn er vårens hekk, kåpene er kastet vekk, lufte...

.: Grønn er vårens hekk, kåpene er kastet vekk, lufte...: Når lyset flammer i våre stuer og lange skygger rundt på  veggen setter. Da er  badesesongen over! Vakre kvinner små og store, røde,...

Grønn er vårens hekk, kåpene er kastet vekk, luften så klar og ren og sommeren full av regn...

Når lyset flammer i våre stuer
og lange skygger rundt på 
veggen setter. Da er 
badesesongen over!


Vakre kvinner små og store,
røde, hvite, blå,
sender sine blikk rundt som
piler små;
Og som krigerflagg i de gamle 
slag, håret er som fanene store,
kom å hold meg !

.: Soul of the world, knowledge, without thee --- Wha...

.: Soul of the world, knowledge, without thee --- Wha...: But years hath done this wrong, To make me write to much, And live to loooong !

Soul of the world, knowledge, without thee --- What hath the earth that truly glorious is ? ... Why should our pride make such a stir to be, To be forgot ?

But years hath done this wrong,
To make me write to much,
And live to loooong !

.: Der Krieg ist nichts als eine Fortsetzung des poli...

.: Der Krieg ist nichts als eine Fortsetzung des poli...: War in Syria ! Terrible... They say war is nothing But, a continuation of politics with the admixture of other means. The loosing ...

Der Krieg ist nichts als eine Fortsetzung des politischen Verkehrs mit Einmischung anderer Mittel.

War in Syria !
Terrible...


They say war is nothing
But, a continuation of politics
with the admixture of other means.


The loosing part is always the
people.

.: L'amour, tel qu'il existe dans la society, n'est q...

.: L'amour, tel qu'il existe dans la society, n'est q...: Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies.....

L'amour, tel qu'il existe dans la society, n'est que l’échange de deux fantaisies et le contact de deux epidermes...

Love, in the form in which it exists in society,
is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies
and the superficial contact of two bodies...

.: La calle de los mudos : Detrás de las inmóviles v...

.: La calle de los mudos : Detrás de las inmóviles v...: Preciosa y el aire... Su luna de pergamino Preciosa tocando viene, por un anfibio sendero de cristales y laureles. El silencio sin e...

La calle de los mudos : Detrás de las inmóviles vidrieras las muchachas juegan con sus risas. - (En los pianos vacíos, aranas titiriteras.) - Las muchachas hablan con sus novios agitando sus trenzas apretadas. - (Mundo del abanico, el pañuelo y la mano.) Los galanes replican haciendo, alas y flores con sus capas negras.

Preciosa y el aire...

Su luna de pergamino
Preciosa tocando viene,
por un anfibio sendero
de cristales y laureles.
El silencio sin estrellas,
huyendo del sonsonete,
cae donde el mar bate y canta
su noche llena de peces.
En los picos de la sierra
los carabineros duermen
guardando las blancas torres
donde viven los ingleses.
Y los gitanos del agua
levantan, por distraerse,
glorietas de caracolas
y ramas de pino verde.

Preciosa and the wind

Playing her parchment moon,
Preciosa comes along
an amphibious trail
of laurel trees and glass.
Silence without a star
flees from the throbbing sound
and falls where the ocean beats,
singing its night full of fish.
On the mountains peaks
sleep the Civil Guard,
watching the white towers
where the English live.
And the gypsies of the water,
just to pass the time,
raise pergolas of river plants
and branches of green pine...

.: We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living breat...

.: We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living breat...

We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world, and the smooth out with ivory hands and sigh...

.: Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and l...

.: Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and l...: This be the verse you grave for me; Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the ...

Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die. And I laid me down with a will...

This be the verse you grave for me;
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

.: Skal vi avlegge en visitt på ideenes torg og sikre...

.: Skal vi avlegge en visitt på ideenes torg og sikre...: I disse OL-tider !... I am sorry...

Skal vi avlegge en visitt på ideenes torg og sikre oss et par anskuelser for resten av uken ? Eller skal vi nå som det er sommer ta oss en kald pils og la verden gå sin egen gang...

I disse OL-tider !...


I am sorry...

.: Åretak, stemmer, mennesker. En båt, en pike med so...

.: Åretak, stemmer, mennesker. En båt, en pike med so...: Den grenseløse sommer: Stjernene brenner, livet har rammet meg med "galskap". Den bunnløse elskov har rammet  meg med galskap, å for e...

.: My Blog (My Soul)

.: My Blog (My Soul)

My Blog (My Soul)

.: Amo, amas, I love a lass, As a cedar tall and slen...

.: Amo, amas, I love a lass, As a cedar tall and slen...: In the gloaming, Oh my darling ! When the lights are dim and low, And the quiet shadows falling Softly come and softly go... I am I...

.: The road to heaven is toll free... (You do not ha...

.: The road to heaven is toll free... (You do not ha...: Tanker Vi stiger inn for å rydde, går fra forbauselse til forbauselse. Så det er her - vi skuer og gjenkjenner Opphavet, som trådte f...

.: We are like sailors who must rebuild their ship on...

.: We are like sailors who must rebuild their ship on...: Whence is it that Nature does nothing in vain; and whence arises all that order and beauty  which we see in the world ? ... does it not  ...

.: Qui n`a pas vecu dans les annees voisines de 1950/...

.: Qui n`a pas vecu dans les annees voisines de 1950/...: He who has not lived during the years around 1950/60 can not know what is meant by the pleasure of life... We how has been and had our B...

.: En mann ringte til skranken i SAS og spurte: Hvor ...

.: En mann ringte til skranken i SAS og spurte: Hvor ...: Han Halvan "Gjedda" overkjørt igjen! (Fort gjort sa den sympatiske fotgjengeren) "Gjedda" og kompisene på tur til Oslo. Det var han S...

.: Cafe' cantante... Lamparas de cristal y espejos ve...

.: Cafe' cantante... Lamparas de cristal y espejos ve...: Sobre el tablado oscuro, la Pararla sostiene una conversación con la muerte. La llama, no viene, y la vuelve a llamar. Las gentes ...

.: The wise man does not fear the world. That waist b...

.: The wise man does not fear the world. That waist b...: Not feigning that he grasps - how glib ! - The madness of creation , H broods upon his mortal state, His birth was betrayal. The wise...

The wise man does not fear the world. That waist beyond death's portal. His dread is that he is alive, for to exist is lethal.

Not feigning that he grasps - how glib ! -
The madness of creation ,
H broods upon his mortal state,
His birth was betrayal.

The wise man in his might bows low
Before creation's wonder,
But in his weakness lifts a voice
Against extinctions power.

His way through woods day never lights
Will be enclosed by branches;
He will not give the sky his trust,
Will not walk with the masses.

No blessing for him in the church,
And in the cup no rapture;
No seat beside the orthodox
Or foolish unbeliever.

He does not plough, none plough for him,
But on the short-lived faring.
He makes his meditation food,
Creates bread from his dreaming.

This man who did not choose the world
Will turn away reluctant;
Because before decay and death
He sought, and found, a comrade.

The insubstantial wind it is
That shapes verse round his passage;
and the illusion that it weaves
will never fade or perish.

.: The clock - what time is it ? The hour has sounde...

.: The clock - what time is it ? The hour has sounde...: Next door the lights are out. Someone is making love. I am frightened by the shape of your face. It is half dark in the room: Nights ...

.: Ditt hjerte banker i mitt øre - Ditt blod strømmer...

.: Ditt hjerte banker i mitt øre - Ditt blod strømmer...: Naturens sang : Ned og opp. Opp og ned. Et barn synger i Sommerens regn utenfor alt inne i alt det blinker faller uten alder ute...

Ditt hjerte banker i mitt øre - Ditt blod strømmer i min hånd - I blind sol brenner vi som nye kloder - Under epletreet...

Naturens sang :


Ned og opp.
Opp og ned.
Et barn synger i
Sommerens regn
utenfor alt
inne i alt
det blinker faller
uten alder
uten ...?
Ned og opp.
Opp og ned.
Et barn synger i
sommerens regn
i sommerens grønne
sorgløshet...

.: Soweit wir zu erkennenvermøgen, ist es der einzige...

.: Soweit wir zu erkennenvermøgen, ist es der einzige...: As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle  a light in the darkness of mere being... Å, elske imens d...

.: The Forgetting Begins...

.: The Forgetting Begins...: Today the 'sigl-di-gwt' became a wagtail. I watched closely as the stream's printing press moved the day's newspapers down form the mo...

.: En skal ikke gape større enn munnen tåler!

.: En skal ikke gape større enn munnen tåler!: There was a land, which I suppose, Where everyone had a crooked nose; And the crooked nose that everyone had In no manner did make hi...

.: Skal vi avlegge et besøk, Hvor hen ? Kanskje på id...

.: Skal vi avlegge et besøk, Hvor hen ? Kanskje på id...: Verden har blitt en skinnende skyskraper. Fantastisk OL åpning, ja vi logrer for de store 'herrer.' De er hevet høyt over oss, hva har i...

Skal vi avlegge et besøk, Hvor hen ? Kanskje på ideenes møteplass og sikre oss anskuelser for resten av juli ? Hvorfor ? Bare regn, regn og atter regn. Ingen fortausrestaurant, ingen kald øl... Men OL er i gang !

Verden har blitt en skinnende skyskraper.
Fantastisk OL åpning, ja vi logrer for de
store 'herrer.' De er hevet høyt over oss,
hva har idretten gjort med dem og oss?
De er så høyt hevet at de blir 'svimle' når
de ser ned på de vanlige mennesker på
denne vår deilige klode.
Men spennende skal OL bli...

.: The fat lady came first, tearing out roots and moi...

.: The fat lady came first, tearing out roots and moi...: Paisaje de la multitud que vomita La mujer gorda venia delante arrancando las raíces y mojando el  pergamino de los tambores. La mujer...

The fat lady came first, tearing out roots and moistening drum-skins. The fat lady who turns dying octopuses inside out. The fat lady, the moon's antagonist, was running through the streets and deserted buildings and leaving tiny skulls of pigeons in the corners and stirring up the furies of the last centuries' feasts and summoning the demon of bread through the sky's clean-swept hills and filtering a longing for light into subterranean tunnels. The graveyards, yes, the graveyards and the sorrow of the kitchens buried in sand, the dead, pheasants and apples of another era, pushing into our throat.

Paisaje de la multitud que vomita

La mujer gorda venia delante
arrancando las raíces y mojando el 
pergamino de los tambores.
La mujer gorda,
que vuelve del revés los pulpos agonizantes.
La mujer gorda, enemiga de la luna,
corría por las calles y los pisos deshabitados
y dejaba por los rincones pequeñas calaveras de paloma
y levantabas las furias de los banquetes de los siglos últimos
y llamaba al demonio del pan por las colinas del cielo barrido
y filtraba un anisa de luz en las circulaciones subterráneas.
Son los cementerios. Lo se'. Son los cementerios
y el dolor de las cocinas enterradas bajo la arena.
Son los muertos, los faisanes y las manzanas de otra hora
los que nos empujan en la garganta.
   

.: The Right Honourable gentleman is indebted to his ...

.: The Right Honourable gentleman is indebted to his ...: In reality, killing time  Is only the name for another of the multifarious ways by which Time kills us.

The Right Honourable gentleman is indebted to his memory for his jests, and to his imagination for his face...

In reality,
killing time 
Is only the name for another
of the multifarious ways by
which Time kills us.

.: Å for en sommer; i stripet badedrakt og ør av døds...

.: Å for en sommer; i stripet badedrakt og ør av døds...: Livet er det som hender  mens du planlegger det... Og husk det er mangt et godt hode under en gammel hatt.

Å for en sommer; i stripet badedrakt og ør av dødsforakt flyr den med hevet spyd midt i sin egen lyd. Et ondt og giftig stikk det korte øyeblikk av salig raseri. Og så er alt forbi. Med sommeren sol regn sol og stikk...

Livet er det som hender 
mens du planlegger det...


Og husk det er mangt et
godt hode under en gammel
hatt.

.: Adivinanza de la...

.: Adivinanza de la...: En la redonda encrucijada, seis doncellas bailan. Tres de carne y tres de plata. Los suenos de ayer las buscan, pero las tiene abraz...

.: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was wi...

.: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was wi...: Just one more sweet thing With the dreams and pains Just one more grand spring With gales and rain With rising water With changing we...

.: Festen er over, rommet står grått og tomt, jentene...

.: Festen er over, rommet står grått og tomt, jentene...: As I take my shoes from the shoemaker,  and my coat from the tailor, so I take my religion from the priest. The best way to get the...

.: Den ene synd drar den andre etter seg...

.: Den ene synd drar den andre etter seg...: Nei takk til sirkus: Nei takk, jeg vil ikke ha billetter til Deres sirkus. Og nå skal jeg forklare dere hvorfor. Jeg kan ikke fordra fo...

.: She lived shut in by flowers and trees - And shade...

.: She lived shut in by flowers and trees - And shade...: On this side lay the trackless sea, On that the great world's mystery; But all unseen and all unguessed They could not break upon her re...

She lived shut in by flowers and trees - And shade of gentle bigotries.

On this side lay the trackless sea,
On that the great world's mystery;
But all unseen and all unguessed
They could not break upon her rest.
The world's far splendours gleamed 
and flashed,
Afar the wild seas foamed and dashed;
But in her small, dull Paradise,
Safe housed from rapture or surprise,
Nor day nor night had power to fright
The peace of God that filled her eyes.

.: I doubt, therefore I think... But I am not conscie...

.: I doubt, therefore I think... But I am not conscie...: In the theatre of life, those who play the part of sincerity are, on the whole, the most convincing in their roles. Whether or not ...

I doubt, therefore I think... But I am not conscience-stricken, but consciousness-stricken.

In the theatre of life,
those who play the part
of sincerity are,
on the whole,
the most convincing
in their roles.

Whether or not they exist,
we're slaves to the gods.

'Woman's why.'

.: Out of stillness, you hear a voice from the high m...

.: Out of stillness, you hear a voice from the high m...: 'Are you al-right?' 'No.' 'Let's go, then.' 'I'm hurting all over.' 'It's so high.' 'That's very good.' 'I'm not afraid.' 'Only a li...

Out of stillness, you hear a voice from the high mountains...

'Are you al-right?'
'No.'
'Let's go, then.'
'I'm hurting all over.'
'It's so high.'
'That's very good.'
'I'm not afraid.'
'Only a little.'
'That's wonderful, I mean
that you also do not like 
the high roads.'
'Shall we go, then?'
'With all this pain and frailness?'
'Yes.'
'that's a good idea.'
'Yes.'
'Where are we going?'
'Downhill.'
'Let's just go.'
'Yes.'
'Down the  narrow mountains road.'
'I'm frighten.'
'To go down.'
'Yes to dangerous.'
'Let's just go down and close our eyes.'
'Al-right.'
'Yes.'
'I'm, yes I'm.'

'Conversation some days ago with my grandson.'
'He was not.'

.: Don't let !...

.: Don't let !...: But don't let the Pope dance ! No, don't let the Pope dance ! Nor the King and Queen, nor the millionaires with blue teeth. nor the ba...

.: The clock - what time is it ? The hour has sounde...

.: The clock - what time is it ? The hour has sounde...: Next door the lights are out. Someone is making love. I am frightened by the shape of your face. It is half dark in the room: Nights ...

The clock - what time is it ? The hour has sounded. I can barely make out the hollows of huge eyes, the following satin of your dress. I can barely see you !...

Next door the lights are out.
Someone is making love.
I am frightened by the shape
of your face.
It is half dark in the room:
Nights is as lonely as if a
piece of ice pierced by moonlight
marks the window.
- Did you surrender ?
I did not fight.
The voice froze as if from
A hundred miles away or the
- moon itself...

Moonbeams stood between us
transforming the world.
The metal of your dark
furiously red hair
glowed unbearably.
History itself is forgotten,
in the flint of the moon,
the looking glass splinters:
there are distant hooves,
and the squeak of a carriage.
The street light has gone out.
(On me too)
Time no longer moves.
Soon the cock will crow.
(Kill the cock)
And two young couple
will part.

.: Baktalerens ord er som lekre retter, de synker ned...

.: Baktalerens ord er som lekre retter, de synker ned...: Lykkelig er han som får høre fritt ros og ømme ord; Ugreit er det når andres dom ligger i lukket bryst.

Baktalerens ord er som lekre retter, de synker ned i kroppen...

Lykkelig er han som får høre
fritt ros og ømme ord;
Ugreit er det når andres dom
ligger i lukket bryst.

.: Selfsame Song...

.: Selfsame Song...: A bird sings the selfsame song. With never a fault in its flow... That we listened to here those long Long years ago... A pleasing mar...

Selfsame Song...

A bird sings the selfsame song.
With never a fault in its flow...
That we listened to here those long
Long years ago...

A pleasing marvel is how
A strain of such rapturous rote
Should have gone on thus till now
Unchanged in a note !

--- But it's not the selfsame bird---
No; perished to dust is he...
As also are those who heard
The song with me !

The end !...

.: PÅ natt vil følge lys og dag og etter striden fred...

.: PÅ natt vil følge lys og dag og etter striden fred...: Kort som vår sommer er det gledesbud, som ikke hjertes sanne fred kan  fremme. Og dette vidner klart en indre stemme, som alltid tale...

PÅ natt vil følge lys og dag og etter striden fred, når i de lange hjerteslag fortrøstning banker med...

Kort som vår sommer er det
gledesbud,
som ikke hjertes sanne fred kan 
fremme.
Og dette vidner klart en indre stemme,
som alltid taler til vår sjel...
Som viser den lange bratte vei !

Livet er som en bratt vegg;
Alltid opp, høyere opp,
Flere krav, bratt og dypt
kan en falle !