Changing the wheel I sit by the roadsideThe driver changes the wheel.I do not like the place I have come from.I do not like the place I am going to.Why with impatience do IWatch him changing the wheel? (Bertolt Brecht) About the author Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956) was a German poet, playwright and theatre director who… Læs mere "Changing the wheel by Bertolt Brecht
When you’re here From here, oh,you can hold yourself,so you can laugh. Free to exploreall manner of things. When you’re here,an i in the O-cean,you’re no longer waitingfor something to happen or to change. When you’re hereyou have what you seek. Your heart opensto the gift you receive,that you are. You are drinking at the… Læs mere "The Well of Being by Jean-Pierre Weill
Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of… Læs mere "Stopping by the woods by Robert Frost
Bluebird there’s a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I’m too tough for him,I say, stay in there, I’m not goingto let anybody seeyou. there’s a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I pour whiskey on him and inhalecigarette smokeand the whores and the bartendersand the grocery clerksnever know thathe’sin there.… Læs mere "Bluebird
the radical moveis to enter each dayas a constant nowfree from the clawsof then and nextso you may take the open handof the momentnerved with pure being Maria Popova (2025, An Almanac of Birds) About the author Maria Popova is a Bulgarian-American essayist, cultural critic and poet who has built a devoted following through her… Læs mere "The radical move by Maria Popova
Late Fragment And did you get whatyou wanted from this life, even so?I did.And what did you want?To call myself beloved, to feel myselfbeloved on the earth. Raymond Carver (1994, A New Path to the Waterfall) About the author Raymond Carver (1938-1988) wrote his first story on a kitchen table while his two young children… Læs mere "Late fragment
A psalm of life Tell me not, in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers,And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;Dust thou art, to dust returnest,Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our… Læs mere "A psalm of life
Stop alle ure, afbryd telefonen,Forhindr hunden i at gø med et saftigt ben,Få klavererne til at tie stille og med dæmpet trommeBring kisten ud, lad de sørgende komme. Lad flyvemaskinerne kredse stønnende over hovedetSkriv på himlen beskeden 'Han er død'.Sæt crepesløjfer om de offentlige duers hvide halse,Lad trafikpolitiet... Læs mere "Begravelsesblues
Jeg gik en mil med Pleasure; hun snakkede hele vejen; men efterlod mig ikke klogere på alt, hvad hun havde at sige. Jeg gik en mile med Sorrow;Og aldrig sagde hun et ord;Men, åh! De ting, jeg lærte af hende,Da Sorrow gik med mig. (Robert Browning Hamilton) Om forfatteren Robert Browning Hamilton var en amerikansk forfatter... Læs mere "Langs vejen
Don’t ask, it’s wrong to know,what fates the gods us bestow. Don’t seek for answers in stars divine,endure and let your heart align. Winters come, or this our last,waves against the rocks are cast. Pour your wine, drink it slow,let your hopes ebb and go. Time flows as we speak,seize today, tomorrow’s far and bleak.… Læs mere "Carpe Diem (Ode on Fate, Horace 1:11)
