Gurre, a Legendary Place

‘If God in heaven will let me have Gurre, then I will let him have Heaven.’
Because of this blasphemy, King Valdemar is doomed to ride in Gurre every night

The romance and mystery associated with Gurre is created by many great poets.
The inspiration is easy to understand when you have wandered in Gurre and experienced the silence at dusk.


The bluish twilight now damper
every sound of sea and land,
the fleeing clouds are encamped
to rest on the edge of heaven.

Compacted to soundless weight
is the forest airy stay
and the lake’s clear waves
have cradled themselves to rest.

In the west, the sun casts
from her radiant purple dress
and pulls over the waves
and dreams of the day’s splendour.

Not the smallest leaf is moving
and call upon my senses,
Not the slightest sound is heard
that seduced the senses to dance.

No, every power is lost
in the river of dreams
and pushes me gently and silent
back to myself…

Jacobsen, J. P., Samlede Værker III, 1924-29

I did a translation of the first verse, Gurresange, despite the risk of violate the treasure from Jens Peter Jacobsen’s pen.

Gurre Castle


Gurre Songs is written by the Danish poet; Jens Peter Jacobsen
Rainer Maria Rilke learned Danish and translated Gurre Songs to German
Twelve Tone Music inventor, Arnold Schoenberg, composed music to Jens Peter Jacobsen’s Gurre Songs (Gurrelieder premiered in 1913 in Vienna)

Where, twisted round the barren oak,
The summer vine in beauty clung,
And summer winds the stillness broke,
The crystal icicle is hung.

Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs
Pour out the river’s gradual tide,
Shrilly the skater’s iron rings,
And voices fill the woodland side.

Alas! how changed from the fair scene,
When birds sang out their mellow lay,
And winds were soft, and woods were green,
And the song ceased not with the day!

But still wild music is abroad,
Pale, desert woods! within your crowd;
And gathering winds, in hoarse accord,
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud.

Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear
Has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year,
I listen, and it cheers me long.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, from: Woods In Winter

The Tavignano Gorge on Corsica

We called it the Rain Valley, the Tavignano Gorge.
One day we drove through Corte, Corsica’s former capital and passed a view to a beautiful looking valley.

From the car I could see a path winding its way in the mountainside. The valley was sparkling green and beautiful. That kind of sights inspires me and as soon as we got back to our base I began to study our maps.
Next day we found our way into the wilderness and the Tavignano Gorge was spectacular lushly.

I was reminded of the Tavignano Gorge when McEff published the post from Andalusia: Chasing the Storm.  A walk or some might call it a climb between the towns of Lanjarón and Órgiva. There are pictures in that post where you can see a trail, the GR 7 cuts across the cliffs of the gorge. I think our trail was paved, compared with the Andalucian GR7 trail.

Vi kaldte kløften for regnvejrsdalen, theTavignano Gorge.
En dag, da vi kørte gennem Corte, Korsikas tidligere hovedstad, passerede vi en meget smuk udsigt til en dal inde mellem bjergene.

Jeg fik øje på en sti, der snoede sig vej inde på den frodige bjergside. Sådanne syn inspirerer mig, og så snart vi kom tilbage til vores base begyndte jeg at studere vores kort.
Næste dag fandt vi vejen ind i Tavignano kløften, der var spektakulær frodig.


You can see more details in Walks on Corsica: 70 Selected Walks on the Coasts and in the Mountains of the “Island of Beauty” by Klaus Wolfsperger

The Tavignano Gorge is worth a visit even when it rains!!! Quote by me 🙂

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