Unknown's avatar

LÄNGST UTE PÅ EN HOLME

Längst ute på en holme där havet väter skären
står kampen att skydda tankarna från insynen

Mörkad ligger Stigen ― Mörkad ligger blicken

Bränner orden.

 

Lyfter blicken,

slagen den drar till marken att kvara

 

En vänlös

Ty mattat glitter är odugligt

 

En kärlekslös

Ty putsat glitter är befängt

 

 

 

Rör senare vid dammet fallet ödestugegolvet,

i lånat nattläger, sliten itu och famnande Intet

Mörkad ligger Gården ― Mörkad ligger skogen

 

Striden hugger.

 

Lyssnar,

hör stillheten vandra över skogens insjö
när solkattade månan glänser i träårorna

 

Står lustdräpt, vacklar,
i ljusan Sommarnatt framför inre skygga tankar

Drar åt tyngder, hotar,
i mörkan Sommarnatt där alla Svaren sig frågar

 

 

Släpad till Livet märkt igen

In i klarhet och imma hälld

Hatet så starkt att det vägrar sig fäste

att ta strandhugg nere vid de tio floderna

1 SIGFRIDSSON

1 SIGFRIDSSON

Unknown's avatar

TO THE FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH

It bitters

 

just before the sunrise find its dew

and after the dew have been sipped

 

(Could anyway never heal the nights

therein the hours stretched into dawn

while flames searched hard for the Light)

 

Life searched to (leave me)

 

meanwhile Sun silently extinguished the mists

by the still and calm mountain ash by the creek

 

Life will (love me)

 

in certainity,

in the violets waving forestshadows

TO THE FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH

TO THE FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH

Unknown's avatar

THE ILLUSION OF THE GREAT WRITERS

Originally posted 6/1-13 on: http://thesolsticewell.com/

Stumbled upon a copy of “Faust” by Goethe some time ago. I had read parts and excerpts of it in German and Swedish before, so I already knew it was crap.

I had a volume of Goethe’s poetry before and liked some parts and pieces of that, so there is no denying from my part that he could write decent. Technically speaking.

This book is one among the two dozen books that have been typical for the intellectual crowd to walk around with a copy of. Found it so humouring that I walked down the streets with it in my pocket that I actually just had to take a picture of that. 

JUNK-CULTURE

JUNK CULTURE

The story of “Faust” is just dumb and poorly written.

There is the fiction figure called “God” in it that have no resemblance whatsoever with reality. It is really insulting that a fake “god” stole and still use the name God against God. (Not even mentioning the thousands of other things that parasite steal from The Gods).  Furthermore, there are some characters in a nonsensical discussion that also come from fiction, all done with the deranged minds view. Etc. You get the picture.

As the case with all junk culture there is nothing of interest and it all lead down to nowhere land. It reminds me, not surprisingly, of how Strindberg later used to build up his plays.

I do not blame fiction for being non-fiction. I blame these silly illusions to enter and derange non-fiction and then affect fiction. I understand that this is fictional writing from a man that know very little about the realities of life. Still, when people like this spread their junk it affects the minds and continue to kill Culture. It is really depressing to know that junk culture like this have been promoted so well that it is currently called “fine literature”. Or any other cliché I might think of. There is, to no surprise,  even worse books out there by other “great writers”. Burn them.

Do I write better than Goethe? If not, then I have no say, you say? That is completely beside the point. (It is not my personal goal to be a great writer. My goal is to give of my knowledge.) Everyone have to start facing the fact that most of what have been produced in literature and arts have been filthied, some of it is forged and is being used as tools for murder and much worse for hundreds of years. It will all be trashed as the new time enters. Be prepared for it.

Literature, music and other forms of entertainment must be cleaned. Junk culture can only inspire to shape more junk. I am against junk entering the mind, defiling and murdering all higher values. What freedom does the victimized, these insane and twisted have? To make this world a trash can for everyone?

I would rather be completely empty than full of that litter.

Unknown's avatar

1 SIGFRIDSSON

1 SIGFRIDSSON

1 SIGFRIDSSON

 

1,000 Followers!
Unknown's avatar

IN YET ANOTHER AUTUMNFALL

(I am bored with my attempts to translate this poem into proper  English. I will just publish it as it is for now and hope for help… I am fully aware that it is more or less word by word translations that I do of my own work, which others might find “wrong”, but I do work with higher set goals.)

 

Dream me in rowanwreathed Autumnforest days

there shimmering cling near the sleeping fields

meanwhile a broken mist stumbles, lifts ― Rises

 

And a silent rain sweeps ― The bonfire hisses

 

Travelling mist covered

And soon it dawns again  ― Again

 

Watching wilderness, playing with dry leaves,

eating my thistles carefully and gifting smiles

beneath days of past grayish skies mirrored

 

And have alone been stuck ― Where Time stopped

 

The almost unnoticed waves in the mountain creek

listens near by to the pleasing small drops of rain,

watching the forest thin in slow pace with Autumn

and knew that the leaves would fall here ― Again

 

Travelling mist covered ― Traceless

Soon it dawns again ― Again

 

Reached an early marsh in its slow leaf falling,

herein may serenity caress and milden

 

You, Autumnland, are Death´s lost portent

 

And soon a Winternightwind was heard calling

IN YET ANOTHER AUTUMNFALL

IN YET ANOTHER AUTUMNFALL

Unknown's avatar

I NATTFROST DRAGET

Gömd i sista Vintervistet kom Döden

likt en späd och ursäktande gråterska

och satt sig i förnimman, i viskanden:

 

Sökte här själva Livet till frände,

i det sårbara, i ditt ensamt döende

 

Vi är en lämnad, skugglös storm,

trycker våra tärda ord mot mörkret,

pressar nattens timmar; lär oss frysa

 

(Blev dragen hit genom markerna i mörkret,

släpades över tidsavståndet, stenar och isar)

Och kölden, har blott min fagerhet i ordet,

men tomheten;

har sin tomhet fastnad Väven

I NATTFROST DRAGET

I NATTFROST DRAGET

Unknown's avatar

RAINED

Rain thicken the skies, shapes the landscape

 

Heavy rain wet the forest, dances in streams,

bending bilberry shrubs placed upon mossed stones

while running rills near here on through the thicket

 

Stumbling roots ― Diverting wounds

 

There!, Sunbeamembraced wild trees

hidden mountainwreathed wasteland

strengthens what memories miraged:

 

Strangely Reality have been branched

 

 

There lye an arrow in the rain, shot,

brought, stuck into a forsaken heart

 

Sent silenced, bittered and lived

 

Stopped.

 

Rained in sea

RAINED

RAINED

Unknown's avatar

GLÄNTAD

Seså, ta nu stigen fram ― Kom och bli gläntad!

 

Gläntade ―

tagna från oron, minda glittrat bäckvatten,

hinner vi fram, binder hit, dagbräckets ny!

 

Vandrade ―

fridfyllda med sötkärva stensötesmaken

kliver fasta gryningssteg på daggälskad stig!

 

Hänryckta!

Vi lirkar regeln av till snårskogarnas gömställen,

kvistar äntligt ur detta druckna lidande framräckt
ty Glädjen vill inför Livet irrblossas alltför kvickt!

 

Älskande ―

höjer milt slitna blickar att Vårställa vår träda,

skönjer skogstilla suset näras rent av detta ljus,
skynda färden, fort klä, kransa oss i levande prakt!

 

Viskande ―

i kanten av denna glänta äger Sanningen sökt sitt svar

intill dovt grönt, ett mjukt svalt, lövjad fager begärelse
beskärt med rikaste bärblomstens renaste förälskelse!

Vi stegar gläntade fram, rinner källade upp, kom hit, tyst,

ty snart är blomningen förbi och åren har oss färdigkysst!

GLÄNTAD

GLÄNTAD

Unknown's avatar

TILL SANNINGENS FRAGMENT

Det bittras

 

innan gryningen finner sin dagg

och efter det att daggen druckits

 

(Kunde ändå aldrig lindra nätterna
därinne timmarna sträcktes till särlan
medan facklorna oömt sökte efter Ljuset)

 

Livet sökte (lämna mig)

 

medan Solen stilla släckte sjöröken

vid stillatigande rönnen över bäcken

 

Livet kommer (älska mig)

 

i vissheten,

i violernas vajande skogsskuggor

 

MOUNTAIN ASH

MOUNTAIN ASH

Unknown's avatar

TIND A LIGHT!

Wandered to burialmounds where the Oaths were given

Risted the Path therein the Worlds longings are carried

*

FEEL!

*

Feel the teared

Initiated here to forlorn be

*

Hard the frost strikes the hidden

while a worthy is torn apart, hardened

Torches flicker, cutting pieces from darkness

Making my leaves, hearing wolves songs

*

Quiet

*

The water called rain usurped

Weak twigs were cracked

*

Be still
 

*

Hear the streams carve the mountain

while wetted leaves chatter

*

Night rain falls

Storm comes

*

The rain cried for me

*

Hidden under these arms of the Tree

beautifying anxiety and withering

with healing, sounding voices

*

Tind light for your life!

Tind lights for our lives!

Tind the light!

 Tind the light! 

THE RAVENSUN