"De stiger op, planetens sommerfugle / I Brajčinodalens middagshede luft..."
(translation by submitter: "They rise up, the planet's butterflies / In the midday heat of the Brajčino Valley...")
Read this in the original Dansk (Danish) here | Read an English translation of one of the sonnets in this sonnet cycle here
Reblog for a larger sample size!
6 notes
·
View notes
sailing / sejlads
Henrik Nordbrandt
After having loved we lie close together
and at the same time with distance between us
like two sailing ships that enjoy so intensely
their own lines in the dank water they divide
that their hulls
are almost splitting from sheer delight
while racing, out in the blue
under sails which the night wind fills
with flowerscented air and moonlight
– without one of them ever trying
to outsail the other
and without the distance between them
lessening or growing at all.
But there are other nights, where we drift
like two brightly illuminated luxury liners
lying side by side
with the engines shut off, under a strange constellation
and without a single passenger on board:
On each deck a violin orchestra is playing
in honor of the luminous waves.
And the sea is full of old tired ships
which we have sunk in our attempt to reach each other.
— — — — —
Efter at have elsket ligger vi tæt sammen
og på samme tid med afstand mellem os
som to sejlskibe der nyder
deres egne linier i de mørke vande, de skiller
så intenst, at deres skrog
er lige ved at åbne sig af ren og skær fryd
mens de sejler om kap, ud i det blå
under sejl, som nattevinden fylder
med blomsterduftende vind og måneskin
– uden at et af dem på noget tidspunkt
forsøger at sejle det andet agterud
og uden at afstanden mellem dem
formindskes eller forøges en smule.
Men der er andre nætter, hvor vi driver af sted
som to klart illuminerede luxuslinere
der ligger side om side
med maskinerne slået fra, under en fremmed stjernehimmel
og uden en eneste passager om bord:
På hvert dæk spiller et violinorkester
til ære for de lysende bølger.
Og havet er fuldt af gamle, trætte skibe
som vi har sænket i vores forsøg på at nå hinanden.
1 note
·
View note
from a newspaper clipping about Yahya, 2013. my little google translation - help, suggestions appreciated, welcome.
ME I'M ALREADY ON THE WAY TO THE PUSHER/
ON THE WAY TO COUSIN/ON THE WAY TO THE BURGLARY/ ON THE ROAD TO HÆLLERHASSAN/
ON THE WAY TO SNITCHES/
YES ME I AM ALREADY ON THE WAY TO INTELLECTUALISM/
ON THE WAY TO JOURNALISTS/
ON THE WAY TO ARTIST/ ON THE WAY TO A READING/
ON THE WAY TO POET/ ON THE WAY TO GLORY
4 notes
·
View notes
A life // Henrik Nordbrandt
You struck a match and its flame blinded you
so you couldn’t find what you were looking for in the darkness
before the match burned out between your fingers
and pain made you forget what you were looking for.
1 note
·
View note
Så Tag Mit Hjerte
Sa tag mit hjerte i dine Haender,
men tag det varsomt og tag det blidt,
det røde hjerte - nu er det dit.
Det slar sa roligt,det slar sa daempet,
for det har elsket, og det har lidt,
nu er det stille - nu er det dit.
Og det kan sares og det kan segne,
og det kan glemme og glemme tit,
men glemmer aldrig, at det er dit.
Det var sa staerkt og saa stolt,mit Hjerte,
det sov og drømte i lyst og leg,
nu kan det knuses - men kum af dig.
So Take My Heart
So take my heart in your hands,
but take it carefully and take it gently,
the red heart - it is now yours.
It beats so quietly, it beats so softly,
for it has loved and it has suffered,
now it is quiet - now it is yours.
And it can get hurt, it can languish,
and it can forget, and it often does,
but never will it forget that it is yours.
It was so strong and so proud, my heart,
it slept and dreamt in joy and play,
now it can be broken - but only by you.
Tove Ditlevsen was a Danish poet. She was born in 1917 in Copenhagen. Her debut as a lyricist dates back to 1937, when one of her poems is published in the newspaper Vild Hvede. A couple of years later, her first poem collection is released with the title “Pigesind” (“Female Mind”). In that period of time, she was in charge of the Danish newspaper Familie Journalen’s column “Smaa Hverdagsproblemer” (“Small Everyday Problems”) after the death of Edith Rode. The following poem, “Så Tag Mit Hjerte”, is taken from Tove’s poem collection “Lille Verden” (“Little World”), released in 1942.
1 note
·
View note
Det er hvidt herude,
kyndelmisse slår sin knude
overmåde hvas og hård,
hvidt forneden, hvidt foroven,
pudret tykt står træ i skoven
som udi min abildgård.
Det er tyst herude,
kun med sagte pik på rude
melder sig den små musvit.
Der er ingen fugl, der synger,
finken kun på kvisten gynger,
ser sig om og hvipper lidt.
Det er koldt herude,
ravne skrige, ugler tude,
søge føde, søge læ.
Kragen spanker om med skaden
højt på rygningen af laden,
skeler til det tamme kræ.
[...]
Inderlig jeg længes
efter vår, men vintren strænges,
atter vinden om til nord!
Kom, sydvest, som frosten tvinger,
kom med dine tågevinger,
kom og løs den bundne jord!
- St. St. Blicher, 1838
202 notes
·
View notes
the world will never be the same
"Alexander Hamilton", Hamilton: An American Musical | Jonas Vingegaard on the podium of the 2021 Tour de France ©Jean Catuffe/Getty Images | Jonas Vingegaard on the podium of the 2022 Tour de France ©Etienne Garnier/ATP/Getty Images
23 notes
·
View notes
Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.
Søren Kierkegaard
35 notes
·
View notes
T. F. Thiselton-Dyer, The Ghost World (1893)
64 notes
·
View notes
Iska Dinesen (Danish Author)
- i usually don't share another poet's work over my page but this is worthy enough to do so. she just summoned the whole in a 12 small words. every poetry in this world will still remains a subset of it.
15 notes
·
View notes
Danish Poem called “the night machine” by Michael Strunge (Danish Poet)
I love this poem, its very beautiful 🥰 ✨🥲
1 note
·
View note
3 notes
·
View notes
A little project we did in school💕
——————————————————————————
Translation:
“I travel, fill the time. Backwards, then forwards again. An unbalance. Chaos. Consequences. She disappears in paradoxes”
4 notes
·
View notes