Category Archives: BOOKS
THE HILLSIDE SMITH SECRET
Sleeplessly resting in a fragile hint,
so alike a water circle offers shallowness;
sighted shortly and withheld; so moving
Tracing then the water in the forest-creek down to the river.
Waiting here. Observing with a careful watchfulness.
Counting everything musingly and cultivating my freedom.
Honour is never anything other than right; wise and truthful,
unthinkable to therein search after any hidden motives.
Sleeping safely next to the hillside smith at summer-dawn.
Relief comes when Life again will be enough.
Letting fastidious be me reasonable and healthy.
Opportunities, the now’s possibilities avoided me steadily
and persistently bitterness bites memories sown,
cock-sure and clearly; in benefit for worthlessness
But, I have a prevalent advantage in clearest excess;
I am foresighted on the Holy Path Home to Valhalla.

THE UNTIMELY
Want to save this moment from escaping,
for it is irreplaceable ― irresistible ―
almost unsparingly fair ― undefiled
Calmed, by misplaced sun warmth
(the betraying), to take myself a freod filled moment
(Wholly and fully as a dumb animal who right away,
instantly forgets, when a little heat reaches to look in.)
Trees, continuing the raining, in a well-aimed loan
compounded with sighing, home to its certainty
Woods, slayed again on its leaves, on its flowers and straws,
molded to clouds and soils service in a secret
There was something well-known…
about all this helpless nuisance,
this here too barren established;
that Life become Death’s only joke
returning to soon be the lost
And while burdened steps cry away the dust of the road
the pouring rain fills an already overfilled water keg

WHERE STONE SHARDS STAND
Choice is stone on flowers
or flowers on stone
YOU THERE! Follow me here and step on meandering ant-tracks
continuing down through the meadowland; in just this spring
which now remade by the meltwater runs over into…
Summer, went past reflecting other little summer memories
up here on juniper tree hills and field islands; down by the creeks
we turn our embraces around full-grown wild strawberry ditches
The water-mirror slumbered stuck further down in the old hollow
with its pine-needles and dust swimming on after― So prettily teasing
We will see invisibly lifted stone shards there behind the glade
by saddened hardened in each corner ― Yet they’re playing
The views are here allowed to be us stretched far and wide,
reachable, for us hastily taken in right before…
Autumn, a scent around blot wood and mushrooms in damp moss
from a silent hiding-place where one single leaf has hanged itself on;
following true life-gladness in search after worth seeing; stainless.
It died down meanwhile the river silenced below the ridge
and beside me sat a frosted fog denseness in a smile;
in its cold and snowfilled winterarms winterfairest shine
We return home inside the soll!
We strike forward our years on mountains!
We break Earth’s veins!

AFORE BEAUTY DIES
Where fallow stayed accessible for years
gleaming in its coldest nightstones; calling
inside the forests snow-covered darkness
as night grew all its frost ready; to cling
Watching the remains sunken down in blood.
(My intensive double eyes
telling about my earlier lives,
remember now my clearest traces.)
Following my longings impossible demands,
That,
which never at any time will caress;
cutting a heart that thought too hard; My grave.
And all my beauty is now dead, as yours,
which in all of you so wrench and aggrieve
Missing me. My longing is cured.
FINDING. AM. BRED.
I am the new essence matured.
Extinguishing all my wounds suffering,
and awake, afore beauty dies, once more.

IN A TIMELESS
Wide awake.
Taking over dawning,
kicking around down in the sand ―
sighting a grey-barn stand among summers ruins
Stepping up to the ledge of a still asleep stone bridge
when a grey wagtail flee away with a quenched cry
almost unheard in our consent of silent wind-throws
(It hurts to be so greatly charged with suspicion.)
It cuts hard into my insight.
Sad to say, I am an all too easily harmed, an turned inside irascible
that been lured to train myself balanced, to hurt myself galled,
be a vulnerable and at the same time avoid hardest pain
(Being all wounds intact and lulling my fairest dream again)
Have ragged myself to come down to the others alikeness;
to obstinately be on exception as an unknown curiosity
But… One thing will lead to the last ― In to an unsolvable
(Remained left in a late set autumn, in a capricious ― In a timeless)
Finally my anguish cuts me done.
It is late.
Care not to carve in overripe wood more now.
Wide awake.

DÄR SKÄRVSTENAR STÅR
Val är sten på blommor
eller blommor på sten
NI DÄR! Följ mig hit och med på snirklande myrstigar
fortsättandes ner genom ängsmarken; just denna Vår
vilken omgjord med smältvatten snart rinner över i…
Sommaren, gick förbi återkastande andra små sommarminnen
här uppe på enbackarna och åkeröarna; nere vid bäckarna
vänder vi famnen runt rödlysande fullmatade smultrondiken
Vattenspegeln slumrade fastnad vidare nere i sänkan
med barret och dammet simmande på ― Så sött retande
Vi ska se att osynligt lyftas skärvstenar där bakom gläntan
av tungsint härdade i varje vrå ― Ändå lekande
Vyerna är här tillåtna vara oss vidsträckta,
åtkomliga, åt oss hastigt infångade innan…
Hösten, dofterna runtom blotat trä och svamp i fuktig mossa
från ett tystnat gömsle där ett endaste löv har klamrat sig fast;
följer sann livsglädje på upptäcksfärd efter sevärt; oupptäckt.
Det mojnade medan ån tystnade till nedanför åsen
och bredvid mig satt en froströks täthet i ett leende;
i sina snötyngda Vintergrenars vintervackra sken
Vi hemvänder inom Jordmånen!
Vi slår fram våra år i bergen!
Vi bryter åder!

NEW BOOK COVER (THORNS)
I went out at Yule for an hour and took these images. I will choose one of these from the session as cover for my next book. I have yet to look closely at them, so in the meantime; is there anyone of these first four that you think is good enough for the cover? Comment if you have Rolls Royce or a bike.




1 SIGFRIDSSON – HUNTED IN INVIOLABLE BLOOD (POETRY E-BOOK)
After most of these translations have been sitting around for five years, I finally got it somewhat together.
INVIOLABLE
Poured in a few warming glances for sweetly rare memories
to carry away, pity gone by, to enclose this inviolable,
yet get to sense those wet summer meadows caress my legs,
to catch the calm wind close to the corner of this stable
.
Dreamed,
I am everywhere down here called a dreamed
.
A hidden,
inside indecisions; the seasons rake me in as gone
.
Glances of Life linger on to remain inside the bitter hurted
and to guest the old property as if this life still was alive,
as if an unknown mist hanged on to this very Life perished,
as would my life still remain in Life as my own Life
.
(Coldly clear. A partly unhinged wooden gate creaks wind,
opened unto a forgotten yard whose remains can be sighted slightly.)
.
Leaned over wooden boxes filled up with potatoes and carrots,
smelling in filled bags with mealy apples in the foyer cold
which all lasted as long as Winter would hand its permission
.
(Frost stricken. The gravel path glimmers its fragile floes,
small stones set inside the frozen sand did glisten still.)
.
I am snared sorrow-wise, bilious, mild-eyed, fragile and lost
like the last apple shined witnessed left on its winter branch
sees this year’s harvest of autumn leaves beauty rolled in frost
.
I stand ended,
alone left unarmed against unreality’s gruesomeness
.
Sidling up to the charcoal kiln forgotten by the region
in thinking of friends’ swords drawn out from the field below
.
Underneath the darkness,
fresh laid snow mounds in a blue bleak winter night
.
.
.
Brewed afterglow:
Dead stars’ cries of regret in the night
beneath gleamingly lingering daybreaks remain ―
Unreachable
.

