Poems

Light

Posted on by Hanna

“The cold was our pride, the snow was our beauty. It fell and fell, lacing day and night together in a milky haze, making everything quieter as it fell, so that winter seemed to partake of religion in a way no other season did, hushed, solemn.”
~ Patricia Hampl 

The snow came Wednesday. It swirled against the windows, time and again, as if it wanted to draw attention to itself. Large flakes of tiny ice crystals. It was melting snow yet it piled itself up in the streets as if it hadn’t heard about the laws of nature.

Elves, Dragons, Stars and Fairies

Posted on by Hanna

All magical creatures seem to manifest in a frozen tableau only to perish by the red flames of the sun.

“Promise to stay wild with me.
We’ll seek and return and stay and find beauty
and the extraordinary in all the spaces we can claim.
We´ll know how to live.
How to breathe magic into the mundane.”
By Victoria Erickson

When the Sun goes Down

Posted on by Hanna

“Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.

leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs-

leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.”

Sunset by Rainer Maria Rilke is a favourite poem of mine ✨✨✨

The Pathless Woods

Posted on by Hanna

There are some trails in the forest, but they are not consistent with my old topographic map. My compass lies on my desk top at home but I’ll find the direction using the sun.

It was one of the first walks, I tested for my self in unknown terrain. I went west towards the wonderful sea.

The sun stood low in the horizon when I finally reached my destination, and I enjoyed the silence while I ate my last supplies.
Back again on the country road I found a bus heading towards the train station. It was deeply satisfying to find my way using a map and the slope of the sun.

Subsequently, I always bring a compass with me, but now also a phone with access to Viewranger and Komoot 😊

hannaswalk.com
hannaswalk.com
hannaswalk.com
hannaswalk.com

“There is pleasure in the pathless woods. There is rapture on the lonely shore. There is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea and music in its roar. I love not man the less, but Nature more.”
~ Lord Byron

Take pleasure in finding your own paths and leave only your footprints behind.

Happy walks 😍

The Sun

Posted on by Hanna

“Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone — …”

The Sun by Mary Oliver

One fine November evening

Én af de fineste november aftener ved Inderbredning i Isefjorden

A Yellow Light

Posted on by Hanna

“…The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.”
By Elizabeth Coatsworth

By the Sea

Posted on by Hanna

By the Sea by Emily Dickinson is one of my favourite poems:

… And he – he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, – then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl …

What a great day it was today. Lots of wind and whitecaps ❤

Green-Robed Senators

Posted on by Hanna

Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,
Dream, and so dream all night without a stir…

~ John Keats, Hyperion, Book I

When the oak is felled the whole forest echoes with it fall, but a hundred acorns are sown in silence by an unnoticed breeze.

~ Thomas Carlyle

The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream. The oak sleeps in the acorn, the bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. Dreams are the seedlings of realities.

~ James Allen

The last Day in May

Posted on by Hanna

Wind in my hair and the scent of lilacs.
The blackbird is singing, accompanied by a woman’s soft humming.
That is the poetry of nature the last day in May.

A wonderful Hawthorn

Tucked between the trees is a magnificent house listed in oak for the deer’s food

One among many moods of the ancient Rådvad

An anonymous mass grave from the cholera epidemic in Copenhagen in 1853, is hidden under hawthorns inside the gate of Taarbæk

Click my picture above to read my post about the Death and the Hawthorn

A path along the anonymous graves in Taarbæk

The pond at Rådvad

Another atmosphere provided from Rådvad

Exotic Words and Places

Posted on by Hanna

I love the writing by the Danish author, Henrik Nordbrandt. His words create amazing scenarios in the cinema of my soul.
Exotic words and places, become like little boats broken loose from their moorings, to drift off in high sea. Soon up, soon down. Soon up, overlooking magnificent palaces, and exuberant crowds, soon down, where only half-truths are revealed and the rest is filled with the invigorating power of imagination.

… Around your figure stands an aura, like a blooming hawthorn had set itself on fire to surpass your shadow in beauty.
Added strings to your being would deepen the silence
or make the strings burst into song …

This poetry is taken from a wonderful poem, Alcyone and translated by myself. Forgive me for that!

Henrik Nordbrandt