Showing posts with label Olav H. Hauge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olav H. Hauge. Show all posts

Saturday, January 4, 2020

I am a boat









I am a boat
without wind.
You were the wind.
Was that the direction I wanted to go?
Who cares about directions
with a wind like that!




translation by Robert Bly






It’s the dream we carry in secret
that something miraculous will happen,
that it must happen –
that time will open
that the heart will open
that doors will open
that the mountains will open
that springs will gush –
that the dream will open,
that one morning we will glide into
some little harbour we didn't know was there.



translation by Robin Fulton

.

~ Olav H. Hauge
(18 August 1908 – 23 May 1994)
a Norwegian, Mr. Hauge worked as a gardener in his own orchard



Tuesday, August 7, 2018

it’s the dream





It’s that dream that we carry with us
that something wonderful will happen,
that it has to happen,
that time will open,
that the heart will open,
that doors will open,
that the mountains will open,
that wells will leap up,
that the dream will open,
that one morning we’ll slip in
to a harbor that we've never known.




~ Olav H. Hauge
translated by Robert Bly
art by klimt







Tuesday, September 6, 2011

across the swamp






.
It is the roots from all the trees that have died
out here, that's how you can walk
safely over the soft places.
Roots like these keep their firmness, it's possible
they've lain here centuries.
And there is still some dark remains
of them under the moss.
They are still in the world and hold
you up so you can make it over.
And when you push out into the mountain lake, high
up, you feel how the memory
of that cold person
who drowned himself here once
helps hold up your frail boat.
He, really crazy, trusted his life
to water and eternity.





~ Olav H. Hauge
translated by Robert Bly
photo by Jay Sturdevant