SIX POEMS
The Bell Strikes
Bertrand Russel is dead. They
told it on the news tonight.
But the sad fact that this
marvellous young man is dead,
at the age of 97, doesn’t,
for the moment, affect me so much
as the fact that he died,
they said, in his home
early tomorrow morning, in Wales.
The globe spins, suspended,
and tomorrow is still
on its way, bringing
his death with it, to us.
In the radio I hear
his clock strike:
”Will you please repeat
that question! The clock
disturbed me,” the old man
says to the interviewer.
Then, undisturbed, he goes on
to air his fearless views
on today’s political issues
to the audience of posterity.
(Berkeley, 3.ii.’70; from Varje meddelande, 1974.
Quotation from a recent interview with Russell,
sent the same evening.) Engl. by the author.
March Evening
… ”and the moon begins first
fourth, a faint slice
west.” This March evening
I see for the first time, 45 years old,
the moon’s craters, clearly, though
through a simple telescope: some are
rings of light on the edge
of darkness, which is a moon-gray
shadow – the darkness is also visible!
And for the first time, over a nameless
constellation resembling a crown,
I see Aldebaran, and on the crescent’s
other side: the Pleiades! For the first time,
halfway to darkness, this March evening
of frost and sudden obstinate snow,
hard and gleaming white
above the golden suns of the first
spring flowers.
(18.iii.’75; from Halvvägs mot mörkret / Halfway to Darkness /,
transl. by John Tritica)
Daibutsu
On my way to Daibutsu, the Great Buddha
– a narrow passage opens between the houses.
Hills nearby, a dozen buzzards circling, diving, surging.
The sky like a huge hand –
Amitabha, in zazen, no matter
how many tourists, no matter
all those Toyota, Nissan, Isuzu, Datsun, Mazda cars,
no matter earthquakes, nor tidal waves,
no matter, never mind, zazen.
(Kamakura, sept.’80; from Kalenderdikter, 2006. Engl. by the author)
The Length of an Arrowshot
Row upon row of incarnated Kwannons
to the horizon of the Temple Hall
representing the universe
One improbable arrowshot from one end to the other
Each incarnation carrying twentyone pairs of hands,
each hand liberating twentyone worlds
In each world billions of galaxies are kept,
in each galaxy billions of stars are confined
The worlds are numberless, limitless
the need for liberation.
(Sanjúsangendó, Kyoto, 11. ix. ’80; from Kalenderdikter, 2006; transl. by the author))
Horologium
Where the tree germinates, it takes root
there it stretches up its thin spire
there it sends down the fine threads
gyroscopically it takes its position
In the seed the genes whisper: stretch out for the light and seek the dark
And the tree seeks the light, it stretches out for the dark
And the more darkness it finds, the more light it discovers
the higher towards the light it reaches, the further down
toward darkness
it is groping
Where the tree germinates, it widens
it drinks from the dark, it sips from the light
intoxicated by the green blood, spirally it turns
the sun drives it, the sap rushes through the fine pipes
towards the light
the pressure from the dark drives it out to the points, one
golden morning the big crown of the tree turns green, from all directions insects, and birds
It is a giddiness, one cone driving the other
Inch after inch the tree takes possession of its place
it transforms the dark into tree
it transforms the light into tree
it transforms the place into tree
It incorporates the revolutions of the planet, one after the other
the bright semicircle, the dark semicircle
Inside the bark, it converts time into tree
The tree has four dimensions, the fourth one memory
far back its memory goes, further back than that of Man,
than the heart of any living beings
For a long time the corpse of the captured highwayman hung
from its branches
The oldest ones, they remember the hunting people, the shell mounds, the neolithic dwellings
They will remember our time, too; our breathing out, they will breathe it in
Hiroshima’s time, they breathe it in, cryptomeria,
also this orbit of the planet, they add it to their growth
Time, they are measuring it; time pieces they are, seventy centuries
the oldest ones carry in their wood
(from Mellan polerna / Between the Poles /, 1982)
Turning Point, December
The world has changed key tonight, put on
the frailty of the hoar frost
Calm, and clouds gone, the heavy haze
of late fall dissolved, crystallitic
Spinet twangs in the eye!
Diamond brilliance when morning advances and the sun
comes creeping up, shy
as a winter hare
Glow-worms and cat’s gold in the ice-tangled meadow jungle,
the resting magpies silenced music-signs
in the tree tops behind the aerial lines of the railway
to the arctic
Now, in a crescendo twinkle
the expess train frizzles through the picture,
electric arcs crackling from the note-rule
Yesterday still shit-coloured box cars
now of a dazzling red brown
in the overall whiteness
And the fragile eye music
continues
(From The Flow. Poems 1979-80, 1999, transl. by George Wood and the author)
ONE TALE
The Stones in the Box
My friend, the secretary of finance, is sitting without moving at the other side of the café table. His gaze is fixed on a wooden box which he has placed carefully in the middle of the circular table. The young girl, who accompanies him, sits leaning slightly back in the chair between us. She looks absently at the square in front of us. It could be Salzburg.
None of us is saying anything. My friend’s face is without expression, abstract like one of those constructivist drawings that he secretly fills one sketch book after the other.
After a while he leans slightly forward, and with the deliberate movement of a skilled chessplayer he opens the exquisitely made wooden box. It has an inner part furnished with lustrous cloth, like an etui. Inside the box, placed in parallel rows like silver spoons in a jeweller’s show case, lie a number of polished stones in different shades ranging from slightly creamy yellow to dark green. Onyx? Jade? Obsidian? They are shaped like cartridges but are bigger than revolver bullets, and therefore they seem a little fat. In the bottom of each stone there is a slight depression, which means that all the stones are pushed a bit into each other. At first glance the content of the box gives the impression of a row of unevenly polished staffs. Each one of the six piles consists of six stones, all of a slightly different colour and grain.
– Read them! my friend the secretary of finance entreats.
The skin of the young girl is bony white. She looks at the square, but her pupils glance quickly in my direction. One is inclined to pink yellow, the other one to dark green. She is very beautiful, and very distant.
And I read, slowly, and with difficulty, while trying to interpret what the stones are whispering. Ijew ahow anadolid, aiew ihow asaw enamselid, omer emenem serensorab … Some of the stones obviously represent syllables, others I read as complete words, while some must be symbols. The pronunciation is completely unknown to me, thougth the sounds easily slip over my lips.
While reading, I´m being filled, as it were, by a fragrant fluid from the warm message of the stones. My heart expands from it and soon it fills my whole body. On the outside of it signs soon appear; they move over the surface and sink like carvings to the chambers. When I have reached the middle of the next to the last pile, I begin to hesitate, the air within my breast is failing me, the meanings darken. I’m stuck.
The young girl scrutinizes me. Eagerly expecting? Disappointed?
– There you see! the secretary of finace says, whom I call my friend, though we seldom meet. You don’t need letters! You don’t even need written signs, you may use anything, bits of bark, pieces of leather, bits of metal, stones polished by nature. Any nation, or tribe, may write with anything. People and gods might bring messages by water, air, a body. You must not believe that we Westerners are special.
He closes the box. The pupils of the pale girl are directed towards the square. A black eye seems to appear on her forehead.
The six sides of the box are transparent. The stones are shining through.
– Read! says my friend, the secretary of finance.
(from Stenarna i skrinet, 1984 / The Stones in the Box, transl. by the author)
ESSAY
The Holy Book of the Rocks
Under the mountain ash, smooth rock
like a wave out of the forest, to meadow
and field. There glitters a creek.
Sacred ground this, sacred acts, gestures,
voices. Stillnes, a song,
getting louder. Out of the crowd,
the leader, the priest …
There are no written documents about life among ancient Germans in Scandinavia older than Beowulf, except some rumours in the works of Tacitus (Germania). Their own words were written down first by the Vikings with runes on wood or on stone slabs. However, with few exceptions this did not happen until the end of the 9th century. (The most important exception is the famous Rök Stone, named after the place Rök, near Lake Vättern.) Though the beautiful memorial stones of Gotland (an island in the Baltic) date from the 8th century, there are no runes on them, only carved and painted scenes from the life of the deceased, from stories or myths.
There are, however, a considerable number of rock carvings, and we now seem to be able to interpret them fairly accurately. That means that we finally have access to the beliefs of the early Germans living as far back as at the end of the neolithic period.
The practice of rock carving probably goes back to the first hunters invading the peninsula after the receding ice cap ten thousand years ago. There´s no reason to assume a gap in the tradition of rock carving, or rock painting, between the magdalénien and the first hunters and fishermen of Scandinavia.
Frequent rock carvings in northern Norway and Sweden show the game of that vast region: whale, bear, moose, reindeer, and salmon. Those carvings of a northern arctic type were probably made by predecessors to the modern Laps (the same people), coming from the east.
There are rock carvings, many thousands of them, all over Sweden. Three regions, however, are prominent: the West Coast (to the north of Gothenburg, and into Norway), Skåne (in the south), the region around the lake Mälaren to the north, south, and west of Stockholm, with the city of Enköping as a centre. To these regions a fourth one should be added, or rather a specific site, Nämforsen (the Näm Falls) at the Ångerman River just above the "waist" of Sweden. On small islands in the river, and on the rocky shores – right under the modern power station, built a few hundred meters from the site! – there are 1 400 petroglyphs showing game, boats, men, and symbolic signs. The Näm Falls apparently was an important trading post, where tradesmen from the southern and eastern agricultural regions met the inland hunters to exchange meat, skin, and fur for their flint, axes, and – later – metal. The symbols of the wheel, and the double footprint, are of a southern origin.
Quite outstanding among the rock carving regions of Scandinavia is the one on the Swedish West Coast in and around the parish of Tanum, with sites like Vitlycke, Litsleby, Fossum, Finntorp, and Backa (Brastad). On sloping rocks, polished by the advancing and retreating ice cap of the ice age, there are thousands of figures, single or composed into groups. Those rocks of hard granite have apparently been used for centuries, perhaps two millennia. Some carvings in a "modern" style, showing big godlike figures in more than natural size, cover older and smaller ones. The rocks are facing what now, due to land-elevation, are fields or pastures, but only two thousand years ago were inlets or waterways. The beaches in front of the sloping cliffs must have been holy ground, reserved for feasts or religious festivals that took place for the most part in the Spring.
These carvings are old, and hence they were not made by the Vikings, but by their early ancestors more than one, perhaps even two thousand years earlier.
The petroglyhs are signs and symbols carved by a people living by farming, hunting, and fishing. They were also tradesmen, paddling along the coast in small and occasionally quite big boats carrying up to twentyfive men. Their boats were made of skin, wrapped around ribs of wood, with a protruding keel bending up in front and also at the stern, like a sledge. (An ”embryo” of the ”long ship” of the Vikings.) They used a simple plough, made of a naturally grown piece of wood, drawn by oxen. They practiced a fertility cult. In their religious ceremonies they used horns, axes, and carts, probably also ships, or rather models of ships.
The imposing hollow bronze horns and axes were used in twos (couples), which can be seen on the carvings. The number two seems to have been holy, probably due to the concept of a twin god, maybe the sons of a main god.
Dear, horse, fox, dog, oxen – those were the animals most frequently carved into the hard surface of the rock. A common animal is also the crane, which is believed to announce the coming of Spring. The plough, often found as a single petroglyph, is obviouisly a fertility symbol. One carving shows a man behind a plough drawn by two oxen. He makes three furrows and holds a fresh young tree in his hand, a ritual opening of the earth. The same custom was observed in ancient China, where the Emperor is said to have performed the rite.
The prominent mating couple on the big Vitlycke site, blessed by a ”priest” or medicine man with a raised ceremonial axe, quite obviously represents a ritual mating of the male and female powers. This ceremionial ”wedding” probably took place in public at the main Spring rite each year.
The sexual, or fertility, aspect of most petroglyphs is apparent. The male organ of the men, and the animals, is conspicuos.
Not only the man with the axe, blessing the couple, might be interpreted as a priest. Other figures with or without horned helmets, seen on carts or ships, might also be priests. But are there any gods among the figures?
Probably not. There is reason to believe that the carvings were made prior to the emergence of a Scandinavian pantheon consisting of later popular gods, such as Odin, Thor, Frö/Frej, Fröja, Idun, and Heimdal. The people behind the carvings seem to have believed in One Almighty Power, representing sun, thunder, rain, lightning, and fertility. He was signified by the spear, the axe, the plough, and also by the wheel, or sun disc that sometimes was carried on a wagon, and could take the form af a drum. Offerings, probably of grain, were made to him in small shallow holes (skålgropar), by far the most common of all carvings.
On the most striking of the carvings, human figures – adorantes – are seen performing the rites, lifting their hands, offering models of ships or carts, raising spears, axes, or big twisted horns to the invisible almighty god. Even turning somersaults to his honour.
The main god – the one who later became Odin, or Wodan – is represented only by his footprints – that is the only reasonable interpretation of the contours of naked feet or double soles found on carvings all the way up to the Näm Falls. The almighty power was not to be made an idol of!
The same religious idea, or taboo to depict the face of God, is found in the Old Testament, by the way. When the mighty chiefs of the Vendel time, e.g. the fifth century A.D., fastened platings with Odin and his ravens to their helmets, that must have meant a late but nonetheless serious sacrilege. Some of the events in Beowulf are loosey related to Vendel (north of Uppsala), and the short historic period, named from grave findings next to the Vendel church.
Through the bronze age people of the north did not leave any written records, they were not ”primitive”, and though they did live at the margin of the world, they were not completely isolated from the rest of Europe. They were contemporary with the civilizations of Minoan Crete, Mycenae, and the New Kingdom of Egypt, as well as with the agricultural society of the Stonehenge architects. Their beliefs were were kin to the beliefs of other people of the contemporary world, and they were influenced by them. The rock carving technique is a very old one, not to be seperated from the underlying beliefs, and the Scandinavian variety with its characteristic style may have grown out from practices begun in the eastern Mediterranean area. The two-wheeled carts seen on the Aspeberget site (Tanum) are similar to the carts used in Egypt by the Pharaos.
People nowadays have a tendency to slight other means of travel and communication than advanced modern vehicles. People were using their feet – effectively! – and horses long before the Apostles. The bronze age people of the north went to sea and travelled along the coasts of Scandinavia as far back as two millennia before the Vikings. Elements of European culture were brought to them. The metal in their axes and swords came from England, and from the continent, till they learnt how to ”burn” bog-ore into iron themselves.
They did not leave any written documents. Their equivalent to papyrus and books, were the rock carvings, which were for the power above to see, and passers-by to observe. Their petroglyphs were carved by generations of skilled and dedicated artists.
Time spared them for us to read.
(4.v.’80. From To the Invisible One, 1986)