Kategori: Dagens dikt

Jamen, det var väl tvunget att denna skulle dyka upp? Nu gör den det på Alla Hjärtans Dag. Voilá! 

 

== 

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 day

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
     
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 

William Shakespeare 

== 

 

Detta är egentligen en ganska banal dikt, men det är något med den som tilltalar mig. 

 

== 

 

Is it really love
Or do I think that I love? 

Maybe I just love being in love
Or love the idea of being in love? 

I spent my whole life chasing love.
In the end the one thing I truly love 
Could just be the meir pursuit of love.

— Ronberge

Är inte detta en fantastiskt vacker text? Jag tänker mig den till ett dop, till exempel. Den får pryda dagen idag för jag känner en massa fina människor som fyller år. 

 

==  

 

May God bless and keep you always

May your wishes all come true

May you always do for others

And let others do for you

May you build a ladder to the stars

And climb on every rung

May you stay forever young

 

Forever young

Forever young

May you stay forever young

 

May you grow up to be righteous

May you grow up to be true

May you always know the truth

And see the light surrounding you

May you always be courageous

See the light and be strong

May you stay forever young

 

Forever young

Forever young

May you stay forever young

 

May your hands always be busy

May your feet always be swift

May you have a strong foundation

When the winds of changes shift

May your heart always be joyful

May your song always be sung

May you stay forever young

 

Forever young

Forever young

May you stay forever young

 

Bob Dylan

 

==

 

Ett av mina älsklingsband of all times som jag glömmer av ibland, Pretenders, har spelat in denna och jag tycker nästan att den är vackrare än originalet. Musikmässigt, då. 

 

 

 

Men vilken underbar dikt! Den ska jag presentera för mamma nästa gång hon får blodstörtning över att det är dammigt på TV:n. 

 

== 

 

Rob är en gammal vän som lade upp denna dikten på Facebook häromsistens. Jag tycker att den är fantastiskt vacker. 

 

== 

 

The golden sun shines its weak light
gleaming off the silver snow.
The washed out sky the palest blue;
the clouds with a slight yellow glow.
the trees stand stark, and still, and proud,
The silence settles like a cloud,
So desolate and lonely yet
The most peaceful you’ll ever get.

The gentle breeze blows throught the trees
Dislodging ice from where it lay
the powder snow crunch underfoot
The nip of cold on hand and face
The loneliness of the scene calls
something deep within your bones
the siren song beckons, emplores,
to come and join the scene, alone

Upon the wind rides darker cloud
like black horses galloping
through the sky towards you fast
rushing in, more snow to bring.
Blotting out the azure sky
Swallowing the golden sun
Turns the world a brooding grey
Warning you of what’s to come

And then at once it starts to fall,
floating gently to the ground
A blanket of silence, deathly white,
Falling like stars, earthward bound
The sky is gone amidst the storm,
and sound, unearthly silence reigns
Swirling ice consuming all
sound and sight whilst it sustains

And just as suddenly it’s done
The clouds dissolve, the sun returns
And gleaming white and silver snow
covers all ‘neath cold that burns
All blemishes are gone, erased
vanished neath ivory sheets
Silent and desolate place
perfectly lonely, total peace.

De där Brontëflickorna kunde inte bara skriva underbara romaner, de kunde allt dikta också!

 

==

 

LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day. 
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall ? 

Rapidly, merrily,
Life’s sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly ! 

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away ?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O’er hope, a heavy sway ?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair !

Oj, denna hade jag glömt av tills jag började bläddra i en gammal anteckingsbok! Tur att jag hittade den igen då. Passande faktiskt. 

 

==

 

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

Detta är en liten skiva perfektion för mig. Garanterat delvis för att jag älskar havet så, men jag är även mycket förtjust i alla s-ljud som blir onomatopoetiska för mig i detta sammanhanget. 

 

Och så är det Båtmässa i Göteborg just nu, på tal om havet. 

 

Och på tal om det där med research som jag nämnde igår så har jag idag lärt mig att Masefield var Poet Laureate (hovdiktare) i 37 år. Se där ja! 

 

==

 

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking,

 

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

 

 

== 

Detta lilla diktprojektet är väldigt nyttigt för mig, för jag tenderar att göra lite research om upphovsmännen och hittar rätt mycket som jag inte hade en aning om innan. Flera av dikterna som kommit upp hittills har jag bara känt till som dikter och inte varifrån de kommit, så att säga. 

 

Idag har jag till exempel lärt mig att Sara Teasdale skilde sig från sin make i smyg. Hon reste bort i arbete i tre månader vilket betydde att hon automatiskt fick lov att ta ut skilsmässa. Sneaky! 

 

==

 

The dreams of my heart and my mind pass,
Nothing stays with me long,
But I have had from a child
The deep solace of song;

If that should ever leave me,
Let me find death and stay
With things whose tunes are played out and forgotten
Like the rain of yesterday.