‘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 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)
Shady forests, silence, steep slopes and breathtaking views over the deep lake, Furesøen.
The temperature varied considerably depending on whether I was in the wood or out on the sunny meadow.
Steep slopes, small springs, pastures, hilly trails and a wooden pier for ‘happy swimmers’.
It was bitterly cold in the woods by the springs, and the lake didn’t tempt with a swim but I did have a great walk.
The place where you lose the trail is not necessarily the place where it ends.
Tom Brown, Jr.
The hoarse cries of a raven put me in adventure mood. A few kilometres further on, only the creaking of snow under my shoes breaks the silence, This is an amazing day after the blizzard and the light makes my heart sing.
I’m grateful for being alive.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the withered air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, and housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
The Snow-Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Now is the time for wandering. Coolness in the air, vibrant colours and bird migration. Nature wears a new dress every day. Nature is exuberant at the moment.
These photos are from Rude Skov. A forest with great variety and bogs. It is highly recommended to stay on the trails, since not all bog holes have a water mirror. If one falls into such a hole, it might be very deep and with steep slopes which could make it impossible to save oneself without help from a person on solid ground.
Hvis I lader bilen stå hjemme, kører bus 354 fra Holte Station op igennem skoven mod Høsterkøb og videre til Nivå.
Rejse med tog og bus har den fordel, at vandreturen kan varieres i det uendelige.
Rejseplanen for buskørsel fra Holte st. til Vildtfogedvej (Hørsholm Kongevej)