As I steam’d down the Mississippi, As I wander’d over the prairies, As I have lived, as I have look’d through my windows my eyes, As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the  east, As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach of the Western Sea, As I roam’d the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have roam’d, Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war, Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph. I sing to the last the equalities modern or old, I sing the endless finales of things, I say Nature continues, glory continues, I praise with electric voice, For I do not see one imperfection in the universe, And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe. O setting sun! though the time has come, I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.
- Walt Whitman

As I steam’d down the Mississippi,
As I wander’d over the prairies,
As I have lived, as I have look’d through my windows my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the
east,
As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach
of the Western Sea,
As I roam’d the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have roam’d,
Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war,
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.
I sing to the last the equalities modern or old,
I sing the endless finales of things,
I say Nature continues, glory continues,
I praise with electric voice,
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe,
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.
O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.

- Walt Whitman

The view from my window at dusk. Once more I am enjoying some time at the Klitgården writers’ refuge in Skagen. This is the sixth year running that I have been privileged enough to come to this place of power to write.
This time the aim is to translate more Lucian Blaga poems and work on the chapbook of American translations of his work that I hope will come out early next year.
Some times we are truly blessed, and this we should not forget.
Previous years’ Klitgården sunsets: 2011 - 2012

The view from my window at dusk. Once more I am enjoying some time at the Klitgården writers’ refuge in Skagen. This is the sixth year running that I have been privileged enough to come to this place of power to write.

This time the aim is to translate more Lucian Blaga poems and work on the chapbook of American translations of his work that I hope will come out early next year.

Some times we are truly blessed, and this we should not forget.

Previous years’ Klitgården sunsets: 2011 - 2012

Sunset Magic at the Lindholm Viking Settlement and Cemetery…

You needn’t gild the lily, offer jewels to the sunset.
No one is watching or standing in your shoes.
Wash your lonely feet in the river in the morning,
Everything promised is delivered to you.

On the eve of the Autumnal Equinox, OF wishes all readers a merry Harvest time!
And if I don’t see you in that Indian summer Then I want to see you further on up the road
Photo: Sunset in Roskilde, 6.45 p.m.
(B.t.w., the building site in the picture is the new old-folks-home I’ll be moving into shortly…)

On the eve of the Autumnal Equinox, OF wishes all readers a merry Harvest time!

And if I don’t see you in that Indian summer
Then I want to see you further on up the road

Photo: Sunset in Roskilde, 6.45 p.m.

(B.t.w., the building site in the picture is the new old-folks-home I’ll be moving into shortly…)