Game of Life

Immediately the tiny fingers powers gather to grip begins play of life in child's mind.
Soon, with smiles and happy child gestures of life joyful preaching, lures into angels of light.

The child grows, the game promises through brave dream realms aloud its bright imagination. Soon, it discusses future plans and happy enthusiasm aspire towards a play with really in.

And it comes, really play, it comes as a roaring through the heart, mind and senses.
Life comes with its own color splendor with love intoxication and the powerful longings shine.

Woman

What was life without the woman?

Only a dead and misty sea where you missed the sun, wind, everything life and excitement gave. And obsessed with the longing man wanted peace in towards the beach.

Fry saw no smoke in there, knew no coffee aroma,
there was no loving woman watchful in the hazy air,
sounded no child laughter out in the fog again.

Or up towards the mountain peak through the forest gullies,
he stormed off blindly, listening to the lid and nap.
But if no tone totally tricked his mandemod was shaken.

Consolation

About disappointments meetings as hearts bleed to death in hating fire -
remember, I'm the same, with love's flame I comfort you.

Only in those moments when we blunder along, while the light is extinguished.
No, I worked and bring home to you my work fruit.

And, do not even so much to put aside therefor;
is only light in the room and flowers by the window it gave happiness, however.

Becomes evening long, so I write songs and read for yourself about pottering and trolls,
so frightened you must stay close to me.

So now enjoy your summer with my boy comes in comfort and tranquility.
We will find room enough to skjærmer against winds and cold two of us.

In Opera

It is like a single, blissful dream;

you lifted and carried us from everyday life

upward toward the light -

towards God.

And the colors captivating,

rich cargo blending smoothly,

easily past one's gaze,

tries to take the divine power of our soul in its tryllenet.

But through the roaring tones a powerful undercurrent goes:

love - celestial ladder from earth, whose top when no mortal.

It has no top: it has no feet,

but the stems and ends in the Lysvæld,

where life itself is rooted in perfect harmony.

This involves the loving hearts out,

unites them soft and mild, while the notes shower them -

then lowers the curtain on stilt.

Plan

My plan was to tie a small bunch of verses

to the memorial about what I have seen.

In memory of the dream

which lifted and carried

the whispering, tender

small questions and answers.

In memory of anger,

which boiled my blood,

when the watch's army

lay clammy on my foot.

Society reward with a stone for bread,

that the majority groaned in sorrow and in need.