.: Kunst gibt nicht das Sichtbare weider, sondern mac...

.: Kunst gibt nicht das Sichtbare weider, sondern mac...: Eine aktive Linie, die sich frei ergeht, ein Spaziergang um seiner selbst willen, ohne Ziel. Das agens ist ein Punkt, der sich versch...

.: April ! Det er så utrulig-ikke til å fatte-så hins...

.: April ! Det er så utrulig-ikke til å fatte-så hins...: Guds hjerte vet vi ikke men vi vet noe som overstrømmer oss som et regn over hendene April.

April ! Det er så utrulig-ikke til å fatte-så hinsides-reint borttei natta-utenfor alt en kunne ha tenkt seg---og det gjør meg så meningsløs glad: April.

Guds hjerte vet vi ikke
men vi vet
noe som overstrømmer oss
som et regn over hendene
April.

.: Glass Wall ...

.: Glass Wall ...: Have you ever looked through glass ? You see straight through it. But you don't know what's inside. I see you on the other si...

Glass Wall ...

Have you ever looked through glass ?
You see straight through it.
But you don't know what's inside.
I see you on the other side.

Push it.
Smash it.
Break it.
You want to get at me.
Only when glass shatters.
The truth really matters.

Chink. Chink. Chink.

I hear you now.
But listen ?
I don't understand.

Palm to palm.
Fingertip to fingertip.
Cold, hard glass.
Why can't I feel you ?

Have you ever looked through glass ?
Have you ever thought about your fellow's ?
Poor children without hope or will we see
Them through glass ?

.: La rosa no buscaba la rosa: inmóvil por el cielo, ...

.: La rosa no buscaba la rosa: inmóvil por el cielo, ...: Del llanto He cerrado mi balcón porque no quiero oír el llanto, pero por detrás de los grises muros no se oye otra cosa que el llan...

.: If I had your smile awaiting me...

.: If I had your smile awaiting me...: If I had your smile awaiting me, the train would recite, across the flat fields of Europe, the syllables of your name. If I had you...

.: Good morning ...

.: Good morning ...: Bitter love, a violet with its crown of the thorns in a thicket of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you com...

.: Summer time... Så hvis jeg var død uten å merke de...

.: Summer time... Så hvis jeg var død uten å merke de...: Time One second, We have no control, Open our eyes, The world i dizzy, As a clock, The hands move round, One direction, Consta...

Summer time... Så hvis jeg var død uten å merke det hvem spurte jeg hva klokken var ? --- Si he muerto y no me dado cuenta a quien le pregunto la hora ?

Time

One second,
We have no control,
Open our eyes,
The world i dizzy,
As a clock,
The hands move round,
One direction,
Constantly.

There is no pause,
Yet we drag along,
Yesterday, today, tomorrow,
Toss it around.
Like a paper bag,
We forget,
That we only have it once,
Don't waste it.

Sometimes we sleep,
Shifting dream to dream,
Wishing ourselves,
A way to move,
In all directions,
Though we want,
To remain in one place,
Unchanging.

Our breath slips,
Away on a breeze,
Carrying the unspoken,
Words and memories,
We wished to have known,
To have lived.
Before the last grain of sand,
Is lost in the fall.

.: Sometimes we smile - Sometimes we frown - Sometime...

.: Sometimes we smile - Sometimes we frown - Sometime...: The colour of light... I was once a star. I travelled anywhere My path not even a journey Just me, my own universe -  You and they...

Sometimes we smile - Sometimes we frown - Sometime we laugh - Sometimes we sigh.

The colour of light...

I was once a star.
I travelled anywhere
My path not even a journey
Just me, my own universe - 
You and they
Imaging me floating
Aimless y...endless y...
Whiles't you had seen me
A frog of hope
The guide to wish and to change.
Yet you forget
I breathed dead
From the moment I meet you.

It was not even a life.
What would I have known
Of dreams
Or of worlds, of places -
Maybe others like me
Who in their own space
Would see...all that was...
Maybe what could've been
Memories
We couldn't touch them
Let alone hold
In time that existed
Where we were nothing.

I could see an ending.
Somewhere
I didn't know how far
to where I would begin again---
was it fate or chance
That I had followed you
Watching...waiting...
I knew your life before mine
But later I would forget it
whilst going through colour and light
To find you waiting for me
through you never knew me
Until ?...

.: Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, En wrought ...

.: Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, En wrought ...: The fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent spontaneous joy and natural content out of my heart....

.: Vi tynges i støvet av syndenes skrud, men fuglen i...

.: Vi tynges i støvet av syndenes skrud, men fuglen i...: Vilt er livet... men vilvin er villere... For alle gode tanker de kan slett ikke dø... For ennå bedre tanker er spiret av deres frø... ...

.: Lykksalig er den man som glemmer med forstand hva ...

.: Lykksalig er den man som glemmer med forstand hva ...: Deiligst av alle gleder er gleden for slett ingen ting. Ikke for noe du kan eller vil, gleden for intet og gleden for alt, gleden: ...

Lykksalig er den man som glemmer med forstand hva han ei endre kan...

Deiligst av alle gleder
er gleden for slett ingen ting.

Ikke for noe du kan eller vil,
gleden for intet og gleden for alt,
gleden: fordi du er til !

.: Er det sant at i en maurtue er det en plikt å drøm...

.: Er det sant at i en maurtue er det en plikt å drøm...: I am none too keen to wish to please you, My friend, Nor to know if you're a  white man or black. Nil nimium studeo, Caesar, ...

Er det sant at i en maurtue er det en plikt å drømme... --- Es Verdad que en el hormiguero los suenos son obligatorios ?

I am none too keen
to wish to please you,
My friend,
Nor to know if you're a 
white man or black.

Nil nimium studeo,
Caesar,
tibi uelle placere
nec scire utrum sis
albus an ater homo.

.: El diamante de una estrella... The diamond of a st...

.: El diamante de una estrella... The diamond of a st...: El diamante de una estrella ha rayado el hondo cielo. Pájaro de luz que quiere escapar del firmamento y huye del enorme nido dond...

El diamante de una estrella... The diamond of a star...

El diamante de una estrella
ha rayado el hondo cielo.
Pájaro de luz que quiere
escapar del firmamento
y huye del enorme nido
donde estaba prisionero
sin saber que lleva astada
una cadena en el cuello.

The diamond of a star
has scored the deep sky,
bird of light that wants
to leave the firmament,
fleeing the huge nest
where it was imprisoned,
not knowing it has
a chain around its neck...

.: You'll become only who you always were...

.: You'll become only who you always were...: What the gods give they give at the start. Only once does Fate give you Your fate, For you're but one. Little is attained by the...

You'll become only who you always were...

What the gods give they give at the start.
Only once does Fate give you
Your fate,
For you're but one.
Little is attained by the effort you exert
In accord with your native ability.
Little, if you were not
Conceived for more.
Be glad to be who you cannot resist
Being...
You will still have the vast sky to cover you,
And the earth,
Green or dry,
Given the season...

.: Glem aldri henne du aldri møtte... Glem aldri henn...

.: Glem aldri henne du aldri møtte... Glem aldri henn...: Se, se ! Et fantastisk og vidunderlig tre ! Toppen vugger i stjerneskinnets dugg-gylne dryss. Roten er drømmen dypt i dit sinns jomfru...

.: What is the best thing in the world ? - Love ? - ...

.: What is the best thing in the world ? - Love ? - ...: Nothing of nothing remains. We're nothing. Without friends and dignity. In the sun and air we put off briefly The unbreathable ...

What is the best thing in the world ? - Love ? - Friendship ? - Families ? - Or good health ? - Or Mooney ? - Who knows ?

Nothing of nothing remains.
We're nothing.
Without friends and dignity.
In the sun and air we put off briefly
The unbreathable darkness of human dignity.
Whose weight we'll have to bear ---
Must see,
Then why not they ?
Not me;
We're tales telling tales,
Nothing ...
Let us hope for friendship and dignity.

.: No one loves anyone else, he loves what he finds o...

.: No one loves anyone else, he loves what he finds o...: To be great, be whole: Don't exaggerate or leave  out any part of you. Be complete in each thing. Put all you are into the least...

No one loves anyone else, he loves what he finds of himself in the other. Don't fret if others don't love you. They feel who you are, and you're a stranger. Be who you are, even if never loved. Secure in yourself, you will suffer few sorrows...

To be great, be whole:
Don't exaggerate or leave 
out any part of you.
Be complete in each thing.
Put all you are into the least 
of your acts.
So too in each lake,
with its lofty life,
the whole moon shines...

.: If each thing has its corresponding god, why shoul...

.: If each thing has its corresponding god, why shoul...: Poor children... Nothing of nothing remains, We're nothing. In the sun and air we put off briefly What we see, What we feel, ...

If each thing has its corresponding god, why shouldn't I have a god as well ? Why shouldn't it be me ? It's in me that this god moves, for I feel. I clearly see the outside world--- Things and men with no soul...

Poor children...

Nothing of nothing remains,
We're nothing.
In the sun and air we put off briefly
What we see,
What we feel,
What we know.
Whose weight we'll have to bear---

.: Speak not ! he is consecrated--- Breath no breath...

.: Speak not ! he is consecrated--- Breath no breath...: The best thing in the world What's the best thing in the world? June-rose, May-dew impearled; Sweet south-wind, that means no r...

Speak not ! he is consecrated--- Breath no breath across his eyes. Lift up and separated, on the hand of God he lies, In a sweetness beyond touching...

The best thing in the world

What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose,
May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth...
not cruel to other people's;
Pleasure...
not in haste to end;
Beauty...
not self-decked and curled
till its pride is over-plain;
Love...
when, 
so,
you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world?
---Something out of it,
I think.

.: Fame is a food that old men eat,--- I have no stom...

.: Fame is a food that old men eat,--- I have no stom...: Pollution... Of the stomach. The ladies of St.James's! They're painted to the eyes; Their white it stays for ever, Thei...

.: Is there hope of loving ?

.: Is there hope of loving ?: What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure ? I think it is the hope of loving, or being loved by someone. I heard a fable once ...

.: Quien trabaja mas en la tierra el hombre o el sol ...

.: Quien trabaja mas en la tierra el hombre o el sol ...: Hvem arbeider mest på jorden mennesket eller kornets sol ? Hver vår er noen en smule mere og noen mindre enn hva de var. P...

Quien trabaja mas en la tierra el hombre o el sol cereal ?

Hvem arbeider mest på jorden
mennesket eller kornets sol ?

Hver vår er noen en smule mere
og noen mindre enn hva de var.

Por que detesto las ciudades
con olor a mujer y orina ?

Hvorfor hater jeg storbyene
med lukt av kvinner og urin ?

.: Kunst gibt nicht das Sichtbare weider, sondern mac...

.: Kunst gibt nicht das Sichtbare weider, sondern mac...: Eine aktive Linie, die sich frei ergeht, ein Spaziergang um seiner selbst willen, ohne Ziel. Das agens ist ein Punkt, der sich versch...

.: The sea bird walking along beside the beach where ...

.: The sea bird walking along beside the beach where ...: through a curtain of thought I see a dead bird and a live bird the dead eyeless, but with a bright eye the live bird discovered me a...

The sea bird walking along beside the beach where the Mediterranean turns in sleep under the cliff's demi-arch...

through a curtain of thought I see
a dead bird and a live bird
the dead eyeless, but with a bright eye
the live bird discovered me
and stepped from a black rock into the air -
I turn from the dead bird to watch him fly,

electric, brilliant blue,
beneath he is orange, like flame,
colours I can't believe are so,

As legendary flowers bloom
incendiary in tint, so swift he
searches about the sky for room,

towering like the cliff's of this coast
with his stiletto wing
and orange on his breast:

he has consumed and drained
the colours of the sea
and the yellow of this tidal ground

till he escapes the eye, or is a ghost
and in a moment has come down
crept into the dead bird, ceased to exist.

.: Even when the bird is walking we know that it has ...

.: Even when the bird is walking we know that it has ...: When night comes black Such royal dreams beckon this woman d As lift her apart From hers earth-married side To wing sleep-feathered,...

Even when the bird is walking we know that it has wings...

When night comes black
Such royal dreams beckon this woman d
As lift her apart
From hers earth-married side
To wing sleep-feathered,
The singular air,
While she, envious bridge,
Cannot follow after, but lies
with her blank brown eyes starved wide,
Twisting curses in the tangled sheet
With taloned fingers,
Shaking in her skull's cage
The stuffed shape of her flown mate
Escaped among moon-plumaged strangers;
So hungered, she must wait in range
Until bird-racketing dawn
When her shrike-face
Leans to peck open those locked lids, to eat
Crowns, palace, all
That night long stole her male,
and with red beak
Spike and suck out
Last blood-drop of that truant heart.

Of :
my crow

Pluto,
the true
Plato,
azzurro-
negro

green-blue
rainbow -

My friend,
it is true

we know
that the crow

'has wings,'
how-
ever pigeon-toe-
in-turned on grass. 
We do.

You speak too---
my vow and motto

And so
dear crow -

I have to
let you go...

I have to
let you go, go, go ...

.: Praise to the Rich peoples or ?...

.: Praise to the Rich peoples or ?...: Under the wheels of luxury... And so, making clear in advance I know there are miles   between us; and I reckons myself with the tra...

.: Pollution = The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, a...

.: Pollution = The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, a...: Well then; Pollution I now do not see this busy world and I shall ne'er agree; The very honey of all earthly disasters, Does of ...

.: Er det sant at svalene skal slå seg til på månen ?...

.: Er det sant at svalene skal slå seg til på månen ?...: Es verdad que las golondrinas  van a establecerse en la luna ? Se llevaran la primavera sacándola de las cornisas ?

Er det sant at svalene skal slå seg til på månen ? ---Vil de ta med seg våren og rive den løs fra gesimsene ?

Es verdad que las golondrinas 
van a establecerse en la luna ?

Se llevaran la primavera
sacándola de las cornisas ?

.: Det kommer aldri noe i en lokket hånd!

.: Det kommer aldri noe i en lokket hånd!: Var jeg en Gud... Ville jeg skapt en bedre verden. Der skulle alle elske...

Det kommer aldri noe i en lokket hånd!

Var jeg en Gud...
Ville jeg skapt
en bedre verden.
Der skulle alle elske...

.: The Story of Solomon Waste...

.: The Story of Solomon Waste...: This is all the story of Solomon Waste. Always hurrying yet never in haste, He fussed and work and toiled all frothing And at the end o...

.: If I had your smile awaiting me...

.: If I had your smile awaiting me...: If I had your smile awaiting me, the train would recite, across the flat fields of Europe, the syllables of your name. If I had you...

.: March...

.: March...: Now I know that spring will come again, Perhaps tomorrow; however late I've patience After this night following on such a day. ...

March...

Now I know that spring will come again,
Perhaps tomorrow; however late I've patience
After this night following on such a day.

While still my temples ached from the cold burning
Of hail and wind, and still the primroses
Torn by the hail were covered up in it,
The sun filled earth and heaven with a great light
And a tenderness, almost warmth, where the hail
   dripped,
As if the mighty sun wept tears of joy.
But 'twas too late for warmth. The sunset piled
Mountains on mountains of snow and ice in the west;
Somewhere among their folds the wind was lost,
And yet 'twas cold, and though I know that Spring
Would come again, I knew it had not come,
That it was lost too in those mountains chill.

What did the thrushes know ? 
Rain,
Snow,
Sleet,
Hail,
Had kept them quiet as the primroses.
They had but an hour to sing. On boughs they sang,
On gates,
On ground; they sang while they change perches
And while they fought, if they remembered to fight;
So earnest were they to pack into that hour
Their unwilling hoard of song before the moon
Grew brighter than the clouds. 
Then 'twas no time for singing merely.
So they could keep off silence
And night, they cared not what they or screamed;
Whether 'twas hoarse 
Or sweet 
Or fierce 
Or soft;
And to me all was sweet; they could do no wrong.
Something they knew - I also, while they sang
And after.
Not till night had half its stars
And never a cloud, was I aware of silence
Stained with all that hour's songs, a silence
Saying that Spring returns...
Perhaps tomorrow...

.: Er det sant at håpene må vannes med dugg ? --- Es ...

.: Er det sant at håpene må vannes med dugg ? --- Es ...: Miras al sol poniente, y tus ojos relucen, ;oh dragón de las ranas! Con un fulgor humano. Las góndolas sin remos de las ideas, cru...

Er det sant at håpene må vannes med dugg ? --- Es verdad que las esperanzas deben regarse con roció ?

Miras al sol poniente,
y tus ojos relucen,
;oh dragón de las ranas!
Con un fulgor humano.
Las góndolas sin remos
de las ideas, cruzan
el agua tenebrosa
de tus iris quemados...

Looking at the setting sun,
your eyes gleam
---oh dragon of the frogs!---
with a human brilliance.
Oar-less gondolas
of ideas ply murky water
in your burnt pupils...

.: Was there a Summer ? Or is the Summer coming ? I h...

.: Was there a Summer ? Or is the Summer coming ? I h...: I am hunger y... For... I suppose there are few in our  Western civilisation Who are good lovers... Or... Woefully few in Europa...

Was there a Summer ? Or is the Summer coming ? I have loved the summer or I'm perhaps waiting ? I do not know any more...

I am hunger y...
For...
I suppose there are few in our 
Western civilisation
Who are good lovers...
Or...
Woefully few in Europa
My love to the life was of the few.
And like all who are supreme in any art was humble.
Pride in their writing they might have - of a sort,
Pride in their swimming (for life) and all their muscles.
But in this art of love only humility.
No flicker of conqueror's feather in his cap.
And how shall I call a certain quality
Innocence
Which we brought to love ?
For there was an infinity of subtle knowledge -
Yet there was innocence.
And I thank you for ever looking back
Thank my perfect ...
The tears stand in the eyes at it is!