Friday, November 15, 2013

Klinge







I skrøbelig balance 
flygtig som det letteste silke
svævende over sværdet 
kærligheden.

Lethed 
åndeløs blidhed 
dunagtig dans båret af den grødefulde luft 
støttet af kærlighedens vægtløshed.
Lidenskabens transparens.

Pollen 
luftens plankton
båret på duften af lykke 
sier dens grødeelementer med sindets barder.
Denne følelse af vækstpotentiale 
af ventende muligheder 
så svulmende...
Transparent transformation
omslutter dansen. 
Hvirvler rundt. 
Silken ovenover svæver.
Barfodsdans på æggen uden fejltrin. 

Silken 
pakker mig ind
pakker klingen ind.
Douce organzadans på blinkende metal. 
Florlette silkestrygninger
så forsigtige 
så lette. 

Silken tåler ikke den skarptslebne æg
uden gennemskæring.
Flagrer 
i to dele 
mod gulvet.
Alene tilbage.
Dødens triumf - men ikke den død.

Danser på silken  
i frydefuld glæde over kærligheden. 
Har lagt sværdet vandret ved tankemagi. 
Sejrsballet på klingens brede del.
Hvorfor balancere på æggen?
Kærlighedens slipstrøm kaster lys i tankelandet.

Alt intakt.









 Kamete

Copyright

2 comments:

  1. This is a VERY rough draft of an English language poem, inspired by the fascination of amber - just found on the (Danish) beach - and the apparent interest in amber, as far back as Viking times... I have only spent about 40 - 45 minutes on it, in two blocks - separated by dinner! Diiner was good. I HOPE the poem is not too "terrible"!!! I call it Rock of Ages Amber.

    Rock of Ages
    Amber, free,
    Waiting, golden, on the beach, for me to…
    Unseen Vikings, leather clad; blastblown, saltwashed:
    Probing fingers, scrunched up eyes, near home, near those dunes,
    Wise enough to bore and thread that yellow stone like rock made gel and wear it.
    Trade long out, far journeys, longships, days, months, years out on some point of compass not yet fixed,
    Out THERE to find their treasured metals,
    Not to ask; to take, but trade if life could last till next year’s port and longer still.
    And amber with its sombre goldlike light becomes attached,
    Grows part of that rough mind, that trade not made:
    Find something else to guide that conquest over
    Precious metals, future wealth, survival,
    All that’s won, sustaining backward, homeward, longing, lonely voyagers,
    Village gone but people found, their amber worn but held in trust.
    Hoard riches, start all over, buried treasure,
    Other monasteries, traders, wait but don’t yet see them come.
    Out there, on their long beaches, amber hiding, found, removed and follows with the wind, and the waves, to rest.

    By Derek The Dane


    ReplyDelete
  2. Couple of wee spelling errors... Woops...

    ReplyDelete