#danish poetry

[haveyoureadthispoem-poll]

"De stiger op, planetens sommerfugle / I Brajčinodalens middagshede luft..."

(translation by submitter: "They rise up, the planet's butterflies / In the midday heat of the Brajčino Valley...")

Read this in the original Dansk (Danish) here | Read an English translation of one of the sonnets in this sonnet cycle here

Reblog for a larger sample size!

[imaginationstimulation]

Så Tag Mit Hjerte

Sa tag mit hjerte i dine Haender, men tag det varsomt og tag det blidt, det røde hjerte - nu er det dit.

Det slar sa roligt,det slar sa daempet, for det har elsket, og det har lidt, nu er det stille - nu er det dit.

Og det kan sares og det kan segne, og det kan glemme og glemme tit, men glemmer aldrig, at det er dit.

Det var sa staerkt og saa stolt,mit Hjerte, det sov og drømte i lyst og leg, nu kan det knuses - men kum af dig.

So Take My Heart

So take my heart in your hands, but take it carefully and take it gently, the red heart - it is now yours.

It beats so quietly, it beats so softly, for it has loved and it has suffered, now it is quiet - now it is yours.

And it can get hurt, it can languish, and it can forget, and it often does, but never will it forget that it is yours.

It was so strong and so proud, my heart, it slept and dreamt in joy and play, now it can be broken - but only by you.

Tove Ditlevsen was a Danish poet. She was born in 1917 in Copenhagen. Her debut as a lyricist dates back to 1937, when one of her poems is published in the newspaper Vild Hvede. A couple of years later, her first poem collection is released with the title “Pigesind” (“Female Mind”). In that period of time, she was in charge of the Danish newspaper Familie Journalen’s column “Smaa Hverdagsproblemer” (“Small Everyday Problems”) after the death of Edith Rode. The following poem, “Så Tag Mit Hjerte”, is taken from Tove’s poem collection “Lille Verden” (“Little World”), released in 1942.

[silvergoldsea]

sailing / sejlads

Henrik Nordbrandt

After having loved we lie close together and at the same time with distance between us like two sailing ships that enjoy so intensely their own lines in the dank water they divide that their hulls are almost splitting from sheer delight while racing, out in the blue under sails which the night wind fills with flowerscented air and moonlight – without one of them ever trying to outsail the other and without the distance between them lessening or growing at all.

But there are other nights, where we drift like two brightly illuminated luxury liners lying side by side with the engines shut off, under a strange constellation and without a single passenger on board: On each deck a violin orchestra is playing in honor of the luminous waves. And the sea is full of old tired ships which we have sunk in our attempt to reach each other.

— — — — — Efter at have elsket ligger vi tæt sammen og på samme tid med afstand mellem os som to sejlskibe der nyder deres egne linier i de mørke vande, de skiller så intenst, at deres skrog er lige ved at åbne sig af ren og skær fryd mens de sejler om kap, ud i det blå under sejl, som nattevinden fylder med blomsterduftende vind og måneskin – uden at et af dem på noget tidspunkt forsøger at sejle det andet agterud og uden at afstanden mellem dem formindskes eller forøges en smule.

Men der er andre nætter, hvor vi driver af sted som to klart illuminerede luxuslinere der ligger side om side med maskinerne slået fra, under en fremmed stjernehimmel og uden en eneste passager om bord: På hvert dæk spiller et violinorkester til ære for de lysende bølger. Og havet er fuldt af gamle, trætte skibe som vi har sænket i vores forsøg på at nå hinanden.

[manwalksintobar]

A life  // Henrik Nordbrandt

You struck a match and its flame blinded you so you couldn’t find what you were looking for in the darkness before the match burned out between your fingers and pain made you forget what you were looking for.                            

[guessillcallitart]

new aroace character dropped✨ Signe, my Danish poet baby🧡💛🤍🩵💙 Also candyfloss star (Reverie and Luz)🪩💞

taglist: @aloeverawrites, @your-absent-father, @rbbess110, @yesireadbooks, @full-on-sam, @anonymousfoz, @the-mindless, @the-void-writes, @aalinaaaaaa, @mr-orion, @1socially-awkard1, @athenswrites, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @albatris (ask to be added or removed)

(moodboard pics from pinterest)

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Det er hvidt herude, kyndelmisse slår sin knude overmåde hvas og hård, hvidt forneden, hvidt foroven, pudret tykt står træ i skoven som udi min abildgård.

Det er tyst herude, kun med sagte pik på rude melder sig den små musvit. Der er ingen fugl, der synger, finken kun på kvisten gynger, ser sig om og hvipper lidt.

Det er koldt herude, ravne skrige, ugler tude, søge føde, søge læ. Kragen spanker om med skaden højt på rygningen af laden, skeler til det tamme kræ.

[...]

Inderlig jeg længes efter vår, men vintren strænges, atter vinden om til nord! Kom, sydvest, som frosten tvinger, kom med dine tågevinger, kom og løs den bundne jord!

- St. St. Blicher, 1838

[remcocoa]

the world will never be the same

"Alexander Hamilton", Hamilton: An American Musical | Jonas Vingegaard on the podium of the 2021 Tour de France ©Jean Catuffe/Getty Images | Jonas Vingegaard on the podium of the 2022 Tour de France ©Etienne Garnier/ATP/Getty Images

[kanmanikkebareheddesigselv]

livet

mit liv

brudstykker

af livene mine

afkyggelser eller efterladenskabelser

af alle de

mine liv der er gået i stykker

>> men 555

som om det drejes og samles igen

som om det hele kan splintres og samles på en dag som på et år

[blinkbones]

i thought you all might want to see the very professional analysis i wrote in my copy of hamlet in a fit of drunken joy

i hope you agree. because im right

[femb0td111ary]

Jeg er ikke min diagnose

Jeg er de blomster jeg plukker

De mennesker jeg elsker

Jeg er solen på min latexhud

Og lugten af regn på en tung sommerdag

Eng//

I'm not my diagnosis

I am the flowers i pick

The people I love

I am the sun on my latex skin

And the smell of rain on a heavy summer day

[persephonediary]

Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.

Søren Kierkegaard

[the-sound-ofrain]

Iska Dinesen (Danish Author)

- i usually don't share another poet's work over my page but this is worthy enough to do so. she just summoned the whole in a 12 small words. every poetry in this world will still remains a subset of it.

[youngmrshudson]

Danish Poem called “the night machine” by Michael Strunge (Danish Poet)

I love this poem, its very beautiful 🥰 ✨🥲

[duo-slew-the-danish-devs]

[amaceinglyordinary]

A little project we did in school💕

——————————————————————————

Translation:

“I travel, fill the time. Backwards, then forwards again. An unbalance. Chaos. Consequences. She disappears in paradoxes”

[blackbird-poetry]

Grotten

Ferie sku være så rart

Endelig en pause fra livets stress

Endelig tid til sig selv

Sove længe

Slappe af

Ferie uden e er fri

Men to e'er står i vejen

E for endeløs

E for ensomhed

Endeløse dag

Sekunder og tanker

Hvad at lave

Tid til sig selv

Tid at arbejde, selvom man ikke sku

Selvom man sku pause

Tag den med ro

Tid til familien

Tid til hobbyer

Tid til søvn og spil

Tid til tanker

Tanker tanker tanker

Om hvad man burde

Om hvad man ville

Om hvad man ønsker

Tanker tanker tanker

Ferie er et endeløst hul

En grotte, der er sikkert

Sikkert men hult

Sikkert men tomt

En grotte, der er roligt

Roligt men mørkt

Roligt men stille

Vent

Til sneen falder

Til solen skinner

Til døren åbner

Til solen blænder dig

Og du savner grotten

den mørke sikre rolige grotte