Wednesday, July 18, 2012

dikt

Et lite klisjedikt av
~ Åsa


Ikke glem


Ikke glem gnisten i din sjel
det som bobler og klukker i deg
som en varm en bekk en sommerkveld
under lövkroner og blöt siriss sang

Ikke glem trangen til å leve
det röde blodet som presser seg gjennom deg
og lar deg kjenne livets sitrende hud
som kler deg med en sötlig smerte

Ikke glem underet ved det å väre
som barndommens skattekammer
fyllt med hösten gule blader og dalende snökrystaller
som dekker deg med stille smil

Ikke glem magien som kan brenne i deg
med urolig dunkende hjerte over uutforskede stier

Våkn opp! Riv deg lös! Skrik ut!
Ikke glem! Ikke sov! Ikke tål livet - men lev det!
Ikke glem å traske gjennom duggvått gress under stjerneklare vårnetter
eller å kjenne din kjäres kyss
som om det var det förste
gang på gang

Astronomy facts

Binary stars:

Are made of two stars that are genuinely
close to each other and bound together
by mutual gravitational attraction.

The two stars orbit around a common center of mass.
For each star, the other is its companion star.
The components of binary star systems
can exchange mass, bringing their
evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.




Hubble image of the Sirius binary system, in which
Sirius B can be clearly distinguished (lower left).

Thursday, July 12, 2012

To my beloved

SONNET 18


Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

~ William Shakespeare



MÅNGA RÔSTER TALAR
- Karin boye

Många röster talar.
Din är som vatten.
Din är som regn,
när det faller genom natten.
Sorlar lågt
sjunker trevande,
långsam, tveksam,
kvalfullt levande.

Skälver som en grund
bakom alla ljud,
sipprar och silar
mot min hud,
sveper sig lent,
sluter mig inne,
fyller mina öron
med viskande minne.

Jag vill sitta tyst
där jag inte kan störa dig.
Jag vill bo och leva
där jag kan höra dig.
Många röster talar.
Genom dem alla
hör jag bara din
som ett nattregn falla.


 He walks in beauty like the night

He walks in beauty, like the night   
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,   
And all that's best of dark and bright   
Meets in his aspect and his eyes;   
Thus mellow'd to that tender light            
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.   
 
One shade the more, one ray the less,   
Had half impair'd the nameless grace   
Which waves in every raven tress   
Or softly lightens o'er his face,     
Where thoughts serenely sweet express   
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.   
 
And on that cheek and o'er that brow   
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,   
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,     
But tell of days in goodness spent,—   
A mind at peace with all below,   
A heart whose love is innocent.   


Thoughts while I can´t sleep

- Can´t sleep...I´m sitting in the night reading poetry and thinking - about everything and nothing....There is something special about the summer-night, it has a mystic atmosphere and blue stillness. When the city is empty, the streets has their very own beauty. I nearly like it better than in daytime. The sound of silence is wrapped around every corner.
I started to think about solitude. When I peel off every layer in my conciousness, at least as far down as I can manage to go, this is often what I am left with. The stillness, the solitude.  It is not a very sad feeling, at least not anymore. It is like I have made some peace with my own solitude. And now, sitting here in the night it is almost beautiful in a way.
The feeling of not belonging anywhere. I wonder what it has its roots in? Is it just a feeling rooted in my psyche that needs inner transformation? Or it is just how it is....On the bottom of us all? A rooted feeling of solitude that we now and then dare to feel....in moments of existential bravery.
I don´t know, I just know the feeling of not fitting in. And going through the different stages of that feeling- from pride, to despair, to resignment. "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society." (~Jiddu Krishnamurti).....I guess quotes like this can make you smile a little in it all. Things are not black or white and there are many answers.
I know it would be nice maybe sharing these things with somebody though. I guess this is why I write them in my blog. A way of talking to the nameless people out there that maybe feels the same way. I have tried to talk about things like these with people around me so many times, but find little understanding. Now I talk to my own words and the silent readers of my blog instead.