‘Stilla kväll’ / ‘Quiet evening’

still lake

I found a piece of paper I was given by a Swedish friend. On it is a poem by Jarl Hemmer (1893 – 1944). I like its message that no experience is wasted.

As you would expect, it sounds a lot better in its original language.

Quiet evening

Like the song of a thousand crickets was the falling of spring rain
on the darkening mirror of water which was dreaming, free of swell.
A bird twittered so weakly and tenderly from the safe foliage along the shore,
and slowly it whispered, my rain:

“It is the quiet moments on which your life should rest.
This evening nothing, nothing at all has happened, yet something happens all the same.
A bird and a spring rain have sung a song to you.
Take it with you. It can help you later on.

Stilla Kväll

Som sång av tusen syrsor var vår regnets fall
mot halvsläckt vattenspegel, som drömde utan svall.
En fågel pep så vek och späd ur strandlövets hägn,
och sakta det viskade, mitt regn:

“Det är de stilla stunderna som du skall leva på.
I kväll har intet, intet skett, men något sker ändå.
En fågel och ett vårregn ha sjungit dig en sång.
Tag med den. Den kan hjälpa dig en gång.”

Photo credit: Sheila Sund via Flickr

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