Born in Oslo after the Second World War, inspired by André Breton, famous French writer and the leader of the surrealistic movement. He created a whole world himself, just before he decided to end his life. Because life is sometimes too much to handle. But before he did this gruesome decision, he was the most influential modernist poet in ’80s and ’90s. His works are short, meaningful and for someone who’s not used to poetry – can be quite weird. His poetry isn’t called the background noise of the universe (David Winters at Full Stop) for no reason. Here are some of his poems that I’ve picked (and those who had an english translation).
I shall marry the Goldsmith’s dead daughter
i stand under a tree of hungry hands
i stand under nothing
i am heading to an absolute
isolation solitude and emptiness
mile after mile of desert I left behind me
and last city passed a long time
i am heading to a great despair
to a doubt
that may be vanished only by major doubts
why do i stand silent if i have a mouth
why do i stand still if I have feet
why don’t I see if I have eyes
why don’t i scream if i am caught in this misery
because i am made of stone
there is something i cannot reach
i do not know what it is
i stretch the arms out after it
air air… air
what are you looking for in the sky
i’m looking for a constellation that doesn’t exist
in the human sphere there are not well
so many significant things:
nails brain bones
I by my own eyes have to
on the other side of them.
But who could to say
between black and green?
in your hands
when you examine them under light
a short moment?
Many. The same
who have never
Who exists and does not
The forest is alive
You can smell the odor
of the fir branches
amidst the night. The wind
In you. In us.
I will travel
and I will create my broken
jars with red images
of the red-horn goat.
and the streaming water, which
and drinks all of us.
I will travel
the goldsmith’s dead
sitting on the threshold
in the evening, I hear the neighbour’s laughter
and the reborn flies
around the glare of the oil lamp.
has no seat
to alight on.
You pursue oaks
inside a church.
Yes! now I suddenly see
the chestnut tree
you are thinking about, in darkness
the white flowers,
we are dust.
of a smile.
Projected on the hedge
a late summer night, the shadows
that chase, perhaps
Those are the only available poems on a network, which have an english translation. I’m not good enough to translate Norwegian poems for you guys, but maybe someday I will.
Here’s a short film containing three poems by this poet. It’s made by Kristian Pedersen and it really has this surreal effect to it. Really worth watching.
Also, If you want to know more about this poet I recommend checking out this astonishing article: www.tbr-olderissues.com
Hope it was interesting. Have a nice week everyone and see you soon.