Saturday, June 18, 2011

Charlotte Brontë: LIFE

Ebeltoft Glasmuseum, Glass Art, Japan
















      IFE, believe, is not a dream
      So dark as sages say;
      Oft a little morning rain
      Foretells a pleasant day.
      Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
      But these are transient all;
      If the shower will make the roses bloom,
      O why lament its fall?
      Rapidly, merrily,
      Life's sunny hours flit by,
      Gratefully, cheerily
      Enjoy them as they fly!
      What though Death at times steps in,
      And calls our Best away?
      What though sorrow seems to win,
      O'er hope, a heavy sway?
      Yet Hope again elastic springs,
      Unconquered, though she fell;
      Still buoyant are her golden wings,
      Still strong to bear us well.
      Manfully, fearlessly,
      The day of trial bear,
      For gloriously, victoriously,
      Can courage quell despair! 
       
      Charlotte Brontë (1816-1855)

      photo Ebeltoft Glasmuseum 2009: grethe bachmann

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow




















The Secret of the Sea

Ah, what pleasant visions haunt me,
As I gaze upon the sea!
All the old romantic legends,
All my dreams, come back to me.

Sails of silk and ropes of sandal,
Such as gleam in ancient lore;
And the singing of the sailors,
And the answer from the shore!

Most of all the Spanish ballad
Haunts me oft, and tarries long
Of the noble Count Arnaldos
And the sailor's mystic song.

Like the long waves on a sea-beach,
Where  the sand as silver shines,
With a soft, monotonous cadence
Flow its unrhymed lyric lines: --

Telling how the Count Arnaldos
With his hawk upon his hand,
Saw a fair and stately galley
Steering onward to the land; --

How he heard the ancient helmsman
Chant a song so wild and clear,
That the sailing sea-bird slowly
Poised upon the mast to hear,

Till his soul was full of longing,
And he cried, with impulse strong, --
"Helmsman! for the love of heaven,
Teach me, too, that wondrous song!"

"Wouldst thou," -- so the helmsman answered,
"Learn the secret of the sea?
Only those who brave its dangers
Comprehend its mystery!"

In each sail that skims the horizon,
In each landward-blowing breeze,
I behold that stately galley,
Hear those mournful melodies;

Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
The Seaside and the Fireside

photo: grethe bachmann

Thursday, March 3, 2011

The Poetic Edda: Voluspa - The Wise Woman's Prophecy

Short information:
The Poetic Edda is a collection of Old Norse poems primarily preserved in the Icelandic mediaeval manuscript Codex Regius. Along with Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda, the Poetic Edda is the most important extant source on Norse mythology and Germanic heroic legends, and from the early 19th century onwards has had a powerful influence on later Scandinavian literatures, not merely through the stories it contains but through the visionary force and dramatic quality of many of the poems. It has also become an inspiring model for many later innovations in poetic meter, particularly in the Nordic languages, offering many varied examples of terse, stress-based metrical schemes working without any final rhyme, and instead using allitterative devices and strongly concentrated imagery. Poets who have acknowledged their debt to the Poetic Edda include Vilhelm Ekelund, August Strindberg, Ezra Pound and Karin Boye.

I have chosen the last verses 44-66 from Voluspa  ( The Wise Woman's Prophecy)
Especially these last verses are the ones I  remember from school: " Now Garms howls loud before Gnipahellir" - this  really gave me a thrill, a sinister image about  this big howling wolf outside the cave of Hell gave me nightmares........
The words are still impressive, violent, gruesome, simple and grand - and in the final verses some optimism : " the unsowed fields wil bear riped fruit" and the wise woman says a couple of times: 
" would you know yet more?" and she ends the prophecy by simply saying ".........now must I sink".

Norse Mythology, Yggdrasil, Silkeborg Museum.
Voluspa
The Wise Woman's Prophecy

44. 
Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, and more can see
Of the fate of the gods the mighty in fight.

45. 
Brothers shall fight and fell each other,
And sisters' sons shall kinship stain;
Hard is it on earth, with mighty whoredom;
Axe-time, sword-time, shields are sundered,
Wind-time, wolf-time, ere the world falls;
Nor ever shall men each other spare.


46.
Fast move the sons of Mim and fate
Is heard in the note of the Gjallarhorn
Loud blows Heimdall the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all  who on Hel-roads are.

47. 
Yggdrasil shakes,  and shiver on high
The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose;
To the head of Mim does Othin give heed,
But the kinsman of surt shall slay him soon.

48.
How fare the gods?  how fare the elves?
All Jotunheim groans, the gods are at council;
Loud roar the dwarfs by the doors of stone,
The masters of the rocks:  would you know yet more?

 49. 
Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free
Much do I know, and more can see
Of the fate of the gods the mighty in fight.

50. 
From the east comes Hrym with shield held high;
In giant-wrath does the serpen writhe;
O'er the waves he twists, and the tawny eagle
Gnaws corpses screaming;  Naglfar is loose.
Norse Mythology, The serpent, Silkeborg Museum
51.
O'er the sea from the north there sails a ship
With the people of Hel at the helm stands Loki;
After the wold| do wild men follow,
And with them the brother of Byleist goes.

52. 
Surt fares from the south  with the scourge of branches,
The sun of the battle-gods  shone from his sword;
The crags are sundered,  the giant-women sink,
The dead throng Hel-way and heaven is cloven.

53. 
Now comes to Hlin yet another hurt,
When Othin fares to fight with the wolf,
And Beli's fair slayer seeks out surt,
For there must fall the joy of  Frigg.

54. 
Then comes Sigfather's mighty son, 
Vithar, to fight with the foaming  wold;
In the giant's son does he thrust his sword
Full to the heart:  his father is avenged.

55. 
Hither there comes the son of Hlothyn,
The bright snake gapes  to heaven above;
. . . . . . . . . .
Against the serpent goes Othin's son.

56. 
In anger smites the warder of earth, --
Forth from their homes must all men flee;-
Nine paces fares the son of Fjorgyn,
And, slain by the serpent fearless he sinks.
- the hot stars from heaven are whirled...
57. 
The sun turns black, earth sinks in the sea,
The hot stars down  from heaven are whirled;
Fierce grows the steam  and the life-feeding flame,
Till fire leaps high  about heaven itself.


58. 
Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir,
The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free;
Much do I know,  and more can see
Of the fate of gods the mighty in fight.
- and the eagle flies...
59. 
Now do I see the earth anew
Rise all green  from the waves again;
The cataracts fall, and the eagle flies,
And fish he catches  beneath the cliffs.

60.
The gods in Ithavoll meet together,
Of the terrible girdler of earth they talk,
And the mighty past they call to mind,
And the ancient  runes of the Ruler of Gods.

61. 
In wondrous beauty once again
Shall the golden tables stand mid the grass,
Which the gods had owned in the days of old,
. . . . . . . . . .

- the fields unsowed bear riped fruit.........
62. 
Then fields unsowed bear ripened fruit,
All ills grow better, and Baldr comes back; 
Baldr and Hoth dwell in Hropt's battle-hall,
And the mighty gods: would you know yet more?


63.
Then Hönir wins the prophetic wand,
. . . . . . . . . .
And the sons of the brothers of Tveggi abide
In Vindheim now: would you know yet more?

64. 
More fair than the sun,  a hall I see,
Roofed with gold, on Gimle it stands;
There shall the righteous rulers dwell,
And happiness ever there shall they have.

65. 
There comes on high, all power to hold,
A mighty lord,  all lands he rules.
("Rule he orders, and rights he fixes,
Laws he ordains  that ever shall live.")

66.
From below the dragon dark comes forth, 
Nithhogg flying from Nithafjoll;
The bodies of men on his wings he bears,
The serpent bright:  but now must I sink.


After this prophecy comes Hávamál - The Ballad of the High One

photo: grethe bachmann
photo: stig bachmann nielsen,  Naturplan.


Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Arthur Rimbaud: Eternity

early morning sun by the sea






Eternity
L'Éternité
1 ( From: Fetes de la Patience)

It’s found we see.

                        

What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, free
To flow with the sea.

Soul on watch
Let whispers confess
Of the empty night
Of the day’s excess.

From the mortal weal
From the common urge
Here you diverge
To fly as you feel.

Since from you alone,
Embers of satin,
Duty breathes down
With no ‘at last’ spoken.

There’s nothing of hope,
No entreaty here.
Science and patience,
Torture is real.

It’s found we see.
What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, free
To flow with the sea.



2. (From: Une Saison en Enfer)

It’s found we see!
What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, mingled
   With the sea.

My immortal soul
Keep your vow
Despite empty night
And the day’s glow.

So you’ll diverge
From the mortal weal
From the common urge,
And fly as you feel…

– No hope, never,
No entreaty here.
Science and patience,
Torture is real.

No more tomorrow,
Embers of satin,
Your own ardour
The only duty.

It’s found we see.
– What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, mingled
    With the sea.

 










Arthur Rimbaud
1854-1891

photo Moesgård: gb

Thursday, February 3, 2011

ANNABEL LEE


















It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE.
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me -
Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling - my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe 
1809-49


photo the North Sea: gb

Monday, January 17, 2011

A Certain Slant of Light..................


Emily Dickinson

Theres a Certain Slant of Light,
Winter Afternoons
That oppresses like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes -


Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are - 


None may teach it - Any - 
'Tis the Seal Dispair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air


When it comes, the Landscape listens
 -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes , 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death.

photo:gb




February 2011