A keresés eredménye

Girl From the North Country

Versions: #1
If you're traveling to the north country,
Where the wind whines in the forests,
Take with you a greeting to one who lives there,
To her that once loved me.
 
If you're travelling through the snowstorms,
When the rivers freeze and the winter gets harsh,
See if she has a fur coat on her back,
To warm and protect her if the cold gets hard.
 
And see for me how she combs her hair,
If it rolls and flows over her breast,
I remember her well, though it was long ago,
Her pitch black hair as I remember her voice.
 
I wonder if she still remembers me,
Maybe she thinks about me sometimes,
I can see her clearly when the night is here,
And I am rocked to sleep in the arms of my loneliness.
 
If you're traveling to the north country,
Where the wind whines in the forests,
Take with you a greeting to one who lives there,
To her that once loved me.
 

A thousand pieces

Versions: #1
Its said above the clouds
The sky is always blue.
 
But that is hard feel when you never see it.
 
They say after the rain the sun shines again.
 
But that seldom helps those who have become soaked.
 
Because when friends drift apart or loves flames die out.
 
The world is seen through new lenses
 
You practice and get better att distinguishing between the truth and the lies that are spoken.
 
Everything can fall apart but a heart can break into a thousand pieces.
 
If you say you're my friend then it could be so.
 
They say there's always a silver lining to things that come.
 
And it is faith that gives us strength to meet them.
 
Yeah we all say so much but know so little of ourselves.
 
When angst comes and loneliness walks in.
 
When friends drift apart and loves flames die out.
 
The world is seen through new lenses.
 
You practice and get better at distinguishing between the truth and the lies spoken.
 
Everything can fall apart but a heart can break into a thousand pieces.
 
If you say you're my friend then you surely are.
 

The Wolf

These ten wheels which spin in the neck
Long chains of small and large cycles
They rotate around my electrical sister
Weaves a weave, a silver embroidery
The heart floats freely like a buzzard
The idea shifts back and forth
The spirit in his hibernation
Oddly away yet close
 
And for sixteen days I traveled from you
The same way back took me eight
And that day I rested at your house
the gold and silver sun came up three times
The life gets one chance
in the large and small things, what you want
Breathe in the black space
That wisdom was unending
 
If you have time you can shade your wings
hold me and anesthetize my mind
Someone creates a vault over our camps
Nice for the old wolf to get sleep
Father sun has the power to shine
Mother earth, a patient woman
Water girl, safe in the sea
The son of pain here I am
 

Thoughts in Liguria

If one lives in a duck pond,
and is completely satisfied.
one soon believes the pool is an ocean.
Then the water lily is a virgin forest,
and man himself is humanity,
and for every question one has an answer.
And everything beyond the horizon,
feels scary and wrong,
like an unnatural, incomprehensible game.
Then you close your eyes and ferment
of complacency,
And stupidity soon becomes a religion.
 
Then one sits in Stockholm,
in Lund and Göteborg,
three fly shits on the edge of the world,
and judge and reject,
in restaurants and in kitchens,
and determine what has and has no value.
When one knows more about China,
Peru and the United States
than those losers know who live there every day.
One doesn't need to ask
themselves how it is,
and one needs to either read or travel.
 
It is if one in Cairo
desires meatballs with onion
which taste like mom has made them.
Or like at a cafe
in Paris, order herring
and if they hesitate, point your forehead at them.
Like holding soccer in font of
a lousy pyramid,
and a schottische before Beethoven's mystique.
Then you become someone like a German
in northern Italy,
and then you get all the love you deserve.
 
'Yes, love is beautiful
it is people who are ugly.'
like Wennerberg says when he is speaking.
Should one blame the system
or perhaps one's self?
Who decides what one thinks one should do?
But that which only closes one's eyes
is not really blind
even if it was the devil so comfortabe.
And if the welfare state
gives a constant quandary
you may perhaps go and look at yourself in the mirror.
 
From my cliff in Liguria
I see farmers who go
and turn their scythes down in the valley.
They work with their bodies
under The Sun's white ball,
for the old ones, the women and children.
In my cottage I am everything
out in the world nothing.
Which value do I want to give myself?
Will I ever understand
the earth we come from
may I see a crumb of humility!
 

Anxiety

Anxiety - humans are made of glass
The air is as mustard gas,
The stomach is a metastasis.
Anxiety - the streets are of sand.
The buildings protect each other.
The existence sways forward.
 
And I sink, - like a stone.
Falling down, - more and more.
Towards the large, black deep - far, far down.
I can't do more.
 
Anxiety - the body is non functioning.
Everything is in vibration.
The pulse is a million.
Anxiety - the cerebral cortex is made of butter.
The chest is a large tumor.
I am standing in the middle of the city and dying.
 
And I scream. - Horrible howl.
But no one hears - Like an animal
No one notices that I turn pale - Who wants out.
No one sees that I die - From its cage.
 
Screaming - No one sees
But everyone goes, - Although you pray.
No one sees the panic in me. - Everyone smiles.
No one sees how I feel. - No one knows.
 
Anxiety - the blood is like a sludge,
the heart so cold and stiff,
I die in an eternity
Anxiety - I stand in my own dream
the dreams of eternal sleep.
I want to sleep until everything is forgotten.
 

LTO (Law about temporary apprehension) Tango

Never stand still in the same place
because within an hour it's time.
Then Cannon and Madigan and Columbo come,
and they have new minor laws to rely on.
 
Take one beer, but never two.
It can look like you have a hard time walking,
and so it can lead to 6 hours care,
because there are new minor laws to rely on.
 
A law today ought to be a flexible law and have
two hundred fifty definitions.
It becomes useful for all and everybody
like one who is afraid to give their opinion.
 
A law from Big Brother to sister, father and mother,
to bring up through in our grim times.
Then you had your back free and the police can take you in
when the oppressors go to battle.
 
So keep yourselves indoors for May first,
because you can be discovered by some shark
who stands by your side and snaps off those who walk.
Because there will be more minor laws to rely on.
 

Tiananmen Square

Like all children I read stories and I loved those from China.
I thought they were so exotic and erotic.
They evoked a picture of beauty, they conveyed smells and tastes,
and the names of the people and places there were so beautiful.
But the lovliest name of all
was Tiananmen Square.
 
So I read about China's history, about the emperors and dynasties,
about the thinkers, and philosophers and despots.
And I was dazzled by their knowledge, their striving for elegance
like when other cultures bowed, they could emerge.
and the symbol of that elegance
was Tiananmen Square.
 
But progress was built on slavery, because the majority lived in poverty.
Only the few got cultured and well-mannered.
The Mighty War was born between the lords and their slaves,
and at the head of the masses there was a son of a farmer.
And he swore that one day victory would
reach Tiananmen Square.
 
And the Sun rose up over China, The New Time was there,
and those who were used to submitting could teach themselves.
Because no one was more than any other, and everyone was for each other,
and the people and leaders spoke about the same future
when they annually celebrated the victory
of Tiananmen Square.
 
But the times changed, soon they were back to the old times
Because those older leaders distanced themselves from the people.
But the young ones, who learned to think and talk and read and write,
went out, as they had learned, and reminded about all the promises.
But the promises were drowned in blood
on Tiananmen Square.
 
I sit and turn the pages of the stories which I read when life was simple,
Then princesses were beautiful and kings were wise and good.
And I look up at the stars in the east, and I discover they have gone out.
I understand so well, there is nothing more to shine upon.
Because there exists an icy darkness
on Tiananmen Square.
 

The Queen of Vence

When the heat vibrates in the lovely Provence
we are there, as usual, down at Henry's Bar in Vence.
We enjoy a siesta next to an ice cold half bottle of wine
and we wait patiently for the captivating Christine.
 
Inside the cries are heard from the notable clientel:
Those Nice Losers in life's own game.
Here nest artists and whores in the city,
here sit bohemians and junkies in a row,
 
Here one lives with each other, side by side.
Here one seeks life's intoxication For the day's lowest price.
Here one asks no questions, here one shares the same pains.
Here is every enjoyment perhaps life's last meal.
 
We creep furtively out towards the square now and then.
We know so well which way she usually goes.
When the clock strikes four Henry himself offers wine.
Then it is soon time for the charming Christine.
 
And suddenly it gets quiet, and suddenly the buzz is muted.
and all the losers go out on the sidewalk.
There she comes forward in the crowd, like sent down from heaven,
The loveliest of them all: The Queen of Vence.
 
She collects the necessities in a brown basket,
and carefully the city's colorful square fades.
Then we nod to each other and raise our glasses.
Soon it is our turn, soon our queen has finished shopping.
 
So she turns herself towards the bar, and sees us on the sidewalk,
and gives us a smile which no one else has.
Then we cry out in ecstasy, and crush the empty glasses,
then we also know that this afternoon can be good.
 

In storage

Stop
Don't come here
I don't have the strength to be preserved in alcohol
Let me go
I want to go in peace
Take your shots and pills and go to hell
 
Everything
Is like a dream
How can I move when all I have is sleep
Life
Runs past
I need an explanation, if the care is storage
Why don't you take my life?
 
All that I asked you for was your help
But I may clearly give it to myself
 
So open
I must go out
Because here you fucking may be healthier than the core
to have the strength to
be sick!
 

Free as a prisoner

Lena grew up in the '60s,
she lived only for The Beatles.
She becaome radical in the '70s,
then it was only politics
To discover the world was a kick,
she wanted to change everything that happened.
She was free as a bird early in May.
 
She toiled in the Social Democrats Youth in the 80s,
and she didn't want to fight alone.
And soon she joined a parlimentary party,
they said that she was more than suited.
In the beginning tolerance was high,
and she just wanted to show that she was good enough.
She was as free as a bird early in May.
 
But something strange happens
when one gets power.
Something one never knew before.
It is like a drug,
it becomes a need.
One only knows that one wants
never to be released from it.
 
So Lena also began to orient herself
and tone down her wild talk.
She chose it herself,
she had no aggression.
But in the Swedish Social Democratic Party one learns
to suggest that which no one says.
 
Now Lena sits bound
by feet as well as by hands.
And one asks her how she once thought
she doesn't remember what she felt.
Today she has no other goal
than to collect points and seniority.
She is as free as a prisoner in Prison.
 

One Night in Santiago

Love, no one knows where it is.
Love, one day it only stands there.
One night in Santiago, when I danced and drank,
suddenly I met your glance.
 
We live a thousand miles from each other.
We both know that everything we don't have is time.
One night in Santiago, while the clocks stood still,
and then everything had past.
 
'Goodbye, I have to leave now for my land.'
(Now I must travel from you)
'But I have always thought about your fate.'
(But you are always in my thoughts)
 
The most beautiful love is probably that
which never reaches more than infatuation.
One night in Santiago, sweet loss, sweet sorrow
May the memory rest in peace.
 
'I like when you're quiet
because you seem absent
and you hear me from afar,
and my voice doesn't affect you.
It seems that your eyes
would have flown
and it seems that a kiss
will close your mouth.'*
 
('I like when you are quiet
because then you are absent
and you hear me at a distance
and my voice doesn't reach you.
Your eyes have looked their way
and a kiss can close your mouth.')**
 

History has shown

Slowly but surely as the deluge pours the time of eternity forward.
Irrepressable as the rotating earth washes over both wolves and lambs.
The man on the mountain with the animals and the ark is not there anymore he will soon be forgotten.
But others came who played with the thought to make sure history became short.
Experience showed them all that from the top is the longest to fall.
All those thousands who despised mankind received a marvelously similar share.
 
Na na na ......
 
Gone is Eve and the snake with cunning.
Gone is the story of the stone tablets.
and the ones who interpreted the scriptures are soon gone
so that it torments mankind.
Gone is the temptation and the savior's fields.
Those who died became dirt.
Heaven was intended for everyone with money.
Men received Hell for the sake of equilibrium.
The church became the stone that dammed up the river.
And the priest's robes jointly turned a blind eye for the murder.
Those who are good never come to heaven.
but that which he does will be gold in the future.
 
Na na na.....
 
Caesar, Ignatius, Napoleon, and Hitler.
Four figures from the time that was.
Large sacrifices for transient profits.
Truncated people were all that remained.
The time has come for us to decide.
If we will learn from everything that happened.
Will we always never learn anything
from those who don't want the right of mankind?
Don't let the lust for power melt your brain
or take you away from lies and slander.
History has shown how people must pay.
So think about how knowledge saves our children.
 
Na na na.....
 

Brukshotellet

She's standing there on the porch, like so many times before,
and sees how the Sun sinks on the water.
She opens both the doors and lets in the breeze
which cools and anticipates the night.
The hotel is deserted for many long years.
She closes her eyes and thinks about how it was yesterday.
At night the memories come which she willingly urges forth.
Then she dreams herself away and begins to hum:
 
'Dance, dance, you who are young, in the evening you are red.
Invite my children to dance and sing. Tomorrow you can be dead.
The Gods need you now, tonight you have a price.
In the dawn everything can be finished. They play with your life.'
 
She thinks about the time, before the factory was closed down,
when the workers came for the Saturday dances.
Then the whisky glasses glittered of a hundred lit lights,
and the girls were there from the whole neighborhood.
How she went there all night between the tables, and saw to it
that the guests got food and drink and no anger.
She knew them so well, when she told them to be quiet.
It was like she was their mother.
 
'Dance, dance, you who are young, in the evening you are red.
Invite my children, to dance and sing. Tomorrow you can be dead.
The Gods need you now, tonight you have a price.
In the dawn everything can be finished. They play with your life.'
 
Then the bitter moment came of the curse,
when the industrialist raped the whole area.
They stood there, by the factory when the machines wore out
They stood there the whole day and half the night.
So quiet her sanctuary, and the lights were blown out,
and the people were driven from the place where the jobs had ended.
But now and then, when the summer wind caresses like tonight,
so she stands there and hums her song.
 
'Dance, dance, you who are young, in the evening you are red.
Invite my children, to dance and sing. Tomorrow you can be dead.
The Gods need you now, tonight you have a price.
In the dawn everything can be finished. They play with your life.'
 

We love you America

I came to New York City, I danced one night
with pale transvestites who death will soon take.
They wanted to beat me happy with leather whips.
This is another thing than to be flirting with the little girls from Karlstad.
 
We love you, America. As well as your syndrome:
To want to come first and never give up.
To compete to win, that style suits me.
It is said that if you have the right components, things will solve themselves..
 
I met Miss Fonda, the unredeemed mother.
It was at Three Mile Island, where terror still lives.
She stood there with the detector among the half burned cows.
It is another thing, little Karin, than your own childhood faith!
 
I traveled down to Florida and went to Disneyland,
where Goofy became president and Mickey Mouse the right hand man,
and Pluto looked after the books in Black Pete's stable.
It is another thing Mr. President, than our own Chapparall!
 
Then we flew home to Sweden, I dozed in my seat
when the priest at my side completely suddenly drew out his gun.
Then he shot down the captain, and smiled at me and said
'Everything under us is yours, I am taking everything over us.'
 
We love you, America. As well as your syndrome:
To want to come first and never give up.
To compete to win, that style suits me.
It is said that if you have the right components, things will solve themselves..
 

Morristown

One usually never knows when he is coming,
one never knows when he will kill.
The old ones who have seen it some times
they say that he comes when he wants to.
And so one evening he is there,
on the streets of Morristown.
 
He comes late at night in the pub
which lies in the poor neighborhood.
He always sits at the round table
where no ones else sits.
Then he asks what has happened
recently in Morristown.
 
He listens and he nods and he plays
with the skull ring on one of his hands.
So he bends carefully and strokes
along the back on his gigantic wolf.
So they go out and are swallowed up
by the fog in Morristown.
 
And the rumor flies through the city
that the man and his wolf have come there.
One knows before the night meets the day
that someone has been changed into a corpse.
For it is how it usually goes
when he comes in to Morristown.
 
When the sun's first rays break the night
the police get their directives.
A tortured body is floating in the water,
a murderer has paid with his life.
One bed stands empty at the city's hotel
in the dawn in Morristown.
 

Bark boat

Look, there goes a boat of bark
with hope on the great water
It is filled with dreams
And no one can take it
 
It goes, it goes
It never comes back
It goes, it goes
It never comes back
 
There is a workman at the steering wheel
And a student has become captain
By the canon stands a farmer
and the nights black fairy
 
It goes, it goes
It never comes back
It goes, it goes
It never comes back
 
Now there is a teacher in the boat
and a soldier and a poet
and at the very last a little girl
who also wants to come along
 
She goes, she goes
She is coming back soon
She goes, she goes
She is coming back soon
 
Now the boat is filled with sailors
But they won't go out in battle
No, they will look for the country
where dreams can live.
 
They go, they go
They go on the sea of hope
They go, they go
They are soon coming back.
 

Life's treasure

On a deserted place in the sea, where the coast dips sharply,
water made a cave here, one can't see from land.
In there is a chest, I owned all my life.
And it is only I know the place where it is.
 
The chest is a hidden one,
for all my days.
For the times I have lived,
and the times I have left.
I save all things there,
I find on my path.
Yes, the chest contains everything
I call my life.
 
There I have my dreams and my truths.
There I have my sorrows and broken loves.
There I have all my longings and all my laughter.
Everything is there in my chest, it is my own treasure.
 
And every day my chest becomes
more valuable.
Because the false rusts away
and the truth becomes gold.
Therefore, I see both clearly,
as in a picture book.
If that I find is something valuable
or only old scrap.
 
But I hunt after temptations,
every moonless night.
They know of my chest
and they fear its power.
So they try to seduce me,
with frivolity and fleeting splendor.
But they will destroy me
and obliterate my treasure.
 
But if I sell my chest,
I will know nothing more.
Then I don't know longer
what is right or wrong.
Then I miss my strength,
and then I am not a threat.
So I never give my key
to my own picture book.
No, I never give my key
to my own picture book.
 

Song in the hour of the wolf

Sleep, little child.
Everything is fine.
I am here next to you,
My darling.
The hour of the wolf comes
but the stars give
their twinkling watch
on heaven tonight.
I sit and see
your innocence and pray
for the life that is in front of you.
My darling friend,
you don't yet know
but one day you will get your answer.
One day you will get your answer.
 
The world is such
that few care about
what you have to give it,
my darling.
The adults control
decides your role
where your task is
to blindly play along.
There freedom is
to bow and smile
and dance when the power decides.
They taught it to me,
they taught it even to you.
God givith that you stand against!
that you also stand against.
 
The law of nature is
the night becomes day.
The stars fade,
my darling.
The time goes,
one day you are gray.
but first turn out
in an blossoming vestment.
Here is your life!
Welcome here!
Do what you feel is right!
If you ask me,
so I will answer you.
But don't believe everything you hear.
Don't believe everything you hear.
 

Here and now

So you are here lying on my arm.
So we are here so close to each other.
I should really be somewhere else
and not know that you exist.
 
From separate directions, on the way to the same goal
In the night are a thousand lights from yesterday.
For here and now I feel your hair.
Here and now we are two.
 
You could live on for 200 years,
and I could likewise have died yesterday.
For a second of an endless time
it is just you who go past me.
 
One of the largest part in having life
is not to know how the next day will be.
And as long as the sand is still running out
it is not really over.
 
How will it be to wake up?
How will it be to separate from your body?
It can be a seed has been be sown
which can germinate and sprout.
 

D.S.B. Blues (Intercity Århus-København)

I am sitting here on the train,
and guzzling bad wine.
I am unshaven and sweaty,
and I smell like a pig.
But last night I was handsome,
last night I was the best.
It was a strange party.
 
I was seduced by a woman,
she thought I was handsome.
Now I have burn blisters on my knees
and lacerations on my back.
I worked so hard I saw stars,
she thought I was tame.
She was a strange woman.
 
I sat a while with the conductor,
he looked just like me.
He thought Hemingway, and Strindberg
and Östergren were good.
He wanted to kill Suzanne Brögger
if she came to Copenhagen.
He was a strange man.
 
But I am sitting here and drinking,
I am drunk and nice soon.
I am on my way home to my daughter,
she is waiting for me this evening
But she knows my vices,
so she loves her father.
She is a strange child.
 
I have been singing my songs
for more than 10 years,
and it is fewer and fewer who listen
the longer time passes.
I have become more alone,
soon there is no hope,
I have a strange job.
 
Yes, I am sitting here and thinking
and I am dreaming about Paris.
I want to be buried there,
I want to end my life there.
I want to be buried under the river
a hundred meters deep.
It will be a strange ending.
 

Don Quixote

It was in Varadero
I met Don Quixote.
I came from the Americas,
Du Pont's famous castle.
It lies there by the cape,
a pearl in the Carribean,
with Gulf of Mexico's
green waters under the castle's balcony.
And in the library is
still hung the pictures
of his wife and children.
 
They came there, in the middle of the park,
in Cuba's velvet night.
The brave Don Quixote
and Sancho with his hat.
They took me down to the sea,
they pointed at the distance,
and Don Quixote said,
'There, under the stars
is Miami Beach.
There is the largest
windmill that exists,
this evening I will ride there.
 
And I ride on,
I ride over the sea.
I ride with the wind
that blows over the water.
Because I have a yearning,
a thought and a purpose.
And no one can stop it
from reaching the horizon!
 
I fight against windmills,
because it is my passion.
The larger the better,
they develop my courage.
People believe I am crazy,
a remnant from the past.
But look at them complain
how they flutter
in their spinelessness!
They are like the old
worn, tired mills.
So I tear them down.
 
For I ride on,
I ride over the sea
I ride with the wind
that blows over the water
Because I have a yearning,
a thought and a purpose.
And no one can hinder it
from reaching the horizon!'