A Few Poems

Kenneth Eriksson

Awake, wanderer,
and see the sun dance over the tufts,
awake, and drink from the dew of the night
while the dawn is caressing your gaze,
awake,
and see the pine trees greeting the sun
with branches lifted,
with crowns erect and trunks golden.
Arise from the moss, spread the grass to the wind,
leave your faded hearth
Because the shadows of the night have ceased
to circle round your shielding fire.
Seek new trails,
for the day is new and pure
and yet it is delicate and tender.
Awake, wanderer,
and seek your path across the wide open spaces.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 6

Dance, dance, while the mist prevails,
dance, dance, lost in the mist,
dance, dance on the veils of the mist
ere the sun steals its shadows
dance, up on the bridge,
that the mist is making to the mountain,
while the magic prevails,
and there drips from the marshes
mist, magical mist.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 11

Distant Hills

I live at the brim of plains.
Free spaces go astray beyond
the horizon.
In the other direction I see distant hills.
Everything is silent here on the plains.
Distant peaks, I greet you,
so ice chilly beyond the flicker of the heat.
Here the grass is eternal.
Not every straw, but the grass as one body.
One day I will walk to these distant mountains,
lying there, planted, like a chain of temples.
On the mountains the snow is lying,
and who knows what their valleys are hiding?
There, somewhere, I will find the truth.
At one of their peaks
the hermit can be found.
He has my own face.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 13

Sing for me, Koo-Tick, my friend,
Sing to me about the howling snow.
You are sitting here by the fire,
chewing the fat meat,
Koo-Tick, child of the tundra,
my friend.
Your flat face, your slanty eyes,
your brown hands, your black hair
I have seen you becoming a wolf in the high country.
Koo-Tick, beat your drum,
sing to me the old songs,
alight your smoke, and bring us on the long voyage
to the mountain of the spirits,
let me hear the voices of the ice,
you, who have seen the answer to the riddles of the tundra,
you, who have seen the desolate lands
swarm with spirits
allow me to see the face of my spirit
like in a mirror.
Yesterday, as we were hunting
wild reindeer, and you
thrust the flint point of your spear
into the shoulder of the buck, then
its blood was splashed on our clothes,
then we both ate from the liver of the buck,
and your song and your eyes
travelled across the tundra.
I love the nights of ecstasy
as we are getting ready for a hunt,
then the lodge is filled with urgent whispers,
and inside the smoke I look upon you as a temple
as your fangs are uncovered
and you are turning round, round,
the walls are shaking in the storm,
and the fire chases the shadows
up in the ceiling.
I see you lying still as the spirits are greeting you
on the mountain
and the spirit of Nanuq
is keeping guard over your body.
Koo-Tick, you are one of those
who knows what
is travelling in the drifting snow.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 10

The Night is my path, I will wander 'neath the trees
while the Moon is painting silver in my tracks.
Ahead of me, the sun has left the last ring of clouds,
I can see, they are still glowing by the horizon.
Around me are the hills, lo, the granite keeps a vigil
silent, the dark woods are keeping tales.
And I wander off in the wind, the one I will not behold dead,
The one that whispers to me things that I write.
I will wander beyond the houses,
beyond the wide ring of clouds,
beyond the seas till I can't wander any more.
And my yearning will be burning,
it will light my way ahead,
When it fades I cannot write anymore.

Kenneth Eriksson from Life Book 5

We were sitting in a ring, twelve dark men
Princes of the Woods
in the shadow of the watching Heart Stone
And the Heart Stone gave, and the Heart Stone took,
All of us shared our bread.
Then suddenly a bold young man stood up
Put his hand on the Boulder and spoke:
"Let us all tread inside into the Peace of the Stones,
I hear humans bringing war.
And our beloved woods
will burst into flames;
Let us rest in the Peace of the Stones
till the Soul of the Woods creates trees anew;
Let us knock on the Gate of the Stones;"
Thus he spoke, all hearts agreed
And it was opened, the side of the Boulder
Eleven Princes stepped in, but the twelfth one remained;
It was I, who yet dwell among people.
I have business yet in this bellicose world
which does not listen to the Voice of the Woods
But there will come a time,
when I have completed my work
when the gates of the Stones will open
and I will tread inside,
One Prince among Twelve
to await the end of the wars.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 3

My ship,
it sails upon the dew as the morning breaks,
it slides from straw to straw;
then tranquilly following a brook,
it wriggles and hovers
far up along the stream
passing waterfalls and stones to the spring
the sparkling clear which feeds this brook.
And I follow it deep into the earth.
In a crevice I rise, and then I see the
light,
and then I notice that it is raining
So I set the foresail, turn the rudder towards the sky,
in an hour I will be sailing on the rainbow.

Kenneth Eriksson, from Life Book 6

© Kenneth Eriksson

Some more poems

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