Where the birches rustles their summer song

The woman on this pic is Sara Danius, former member of the Swedish Academy for literature and to left in the pic, the back of the head of her prime antagonist Horace Engdahl, still a member of the Swedish Academy

When one goes, the other is seen left behind:
But the former will be what comes. The other:
the laughing gentleman, now ridiculous naked
butt as the fairy tale emperor: but still haughty
he gabbles his garbage. Far after the abscesses
burst, stenches still stays in the air in Sweden’s
public space: nothing is the same – and yet it is:
as the birches again rustles their summer song!

Den som går och den som är kvar:
den förre är den som kommer och
den andre, löjets sanna gentleman
lämnad förlöjligad därhän så naken
om baken som sagans kejsare men
ändock skrivande skrävlande dynga.
Bölderna sprack: stanken sprider sig
alltfort över Sveriges offentliga rum:
inget är sig likt i liklukten! Likt likväl:
att björkar nu susar sin sommarsång!

Wellknown and popular folk song in Sweden, but in origin from Finland.

John Bauer Prince without Shadow

John Bauer Prince without Shadow

The poem was written in 1915 by Viktor Sund, Finnish-Swedish teacher and librarian. The story tells that the poem was written for his own wedding, but his fiancee died shortly before the wedding and he never married. The  music by Oscar Merikanto, Finnish composer.

Verse three of three:

Where the birches rustles, there among them
we will promise each other fidelity and love
Where we will build the home for our young
happiness and make life lovely for each other

 

rose, whiterose, white

 

 

 

Hermann Hesse (1877 – 1962)

“So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.” Hermann Hesse Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

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This entry was posted in about writing, courage, create life, culture values, dreamers, faith, garbage, life and love, loners, lost trust, love story, morality, nature, past, poems by vonnely, Poetry, politics, reading, reading newspapers, repression and borders, sexuality, summer poem, summertime, surviving, Swedish souls, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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