My Favorite Swedish Poet

I am thinking about suffering, and how I was led to a seemingly obscure compilation of poetry, Toward the Solitary Star (written by an equally obscure Swedish poet), at a time when I needed new eyes for old, old troubles.

This poet was the first to come to my mind when a 
friend sent out an inquiry regarding poetry that 
people had been reading and could recommend.

Question Against the Night

The light that should flow free
and penetrate the wall of loneliness---

Östen Sjöstrand  (from Homelessness and Home, translated by Robin Fulton)

Östen Sjöstrand's poetry conveys some of my 

deepest sentiments about life and death, and sparks 

hope in me for a better world. Carl Jung is one who 

well understood the depths of darkness required to 

attain and withstand a life of light. 



  By Carl Jung “Night sinks blue and deep from above, earth rises black from below.”


Madrigal


Night came, and sickness struck me with silence,

paralyzed my eye and my foot,

it paralyzed my eye and my foot.

The Physician came, and the Physician said to me:

for this night there is no cure,

there is no cure

Love came, and love said to me:

the night may hide your being, your root

but it cannot hide --- that spark

that spark that dwells in your innermost space

--- and burns, beyond the reach of night


by Östen Sjöstrand (translated by Robin Fulton)


For a dear friend: 

II (from Hidden Music)

     While shining night clouds,

     dark nebulae, draw past,

     I listen----not

to the sunk cathedral's bells

     which fall silent

     with the distant ocean.

     

     I hear a pulsing universe

     inside my closed eyelids

by Östen Sjöstrand (translated by Robin Fulton)

For Those at the Limit (Östen Sjöstrand)

For you outcast in darkness

for you forced to keep silence

in this desert of oppressed and exiled lives

for you with broken driving belts

with the wheels of emotion worn out

for you who can no longer wait for day

because day has changed into boundlessness

for you in the searchlight world of catchwords

where fear with a movement of the hand can extinguish

all the stars in everyone

for you comrades among watching eyes

tormented by the dark's denied questions

this song under the earth

this last that is possible

the most secret crime

the only thing possible --- like a seed,

like a flower,

like the mining town's dark brown rain

(translated by Robin Fulton)

This is taken from one of several blogs I have kept over the last decade:

A Secret Growth, Secret Well-springs 

Originally posted on January 16, 2013

Lately I have been helping my clients who have experienced trauma access a part of themselves that has not been damaged, that is at peace with the world, and that is safe. For some it is linked to a higher power, and for others it can be described as a "safe place" or a deep knowledge that they are worthy to be loved. I have yet to meet with someone who has never been able to identify such a place of peace. Even if someone has only experienced it for a small moment, it is there, and can often be rediscovered through a simple process of mindful awareness. It is at the core of each of us, and is a space where healing is possible. It is often buried beneath layers and layers of hurt and deception - by others and by the self. 

It is what my favorite Swedish poet often refers to in his poems, such as how he describes it here . . .

     The truth
wins its power of growth in the soil:
underground
we win a new understanding
that draws us up
like trees,
like an oak---
with its crown
with its downy grey shoots.

Underground---
the honorable, uncorroded will,

the innermost
will to live.

By Östen Sjöstrand, translated by Robin Fulton
From Nameless (Stanza IV: A Secret Growth, Secret Well-springs)

For me, it is most noticeable when I am completely present in a moment. Being in the mountains, playing music with all of my heart, and being in tune with a loved one are some of the times I have felt it. I felt it as I noticed a few of my clients experiencing it during their sessions this week. I knew they were experiencing healing, and they knew it too.

When I am able to find it - or it finds me - I know that I know that I know what I am feeling is true in that moment, and it keeps me committed to living. 

I love this photo I found on the National Geographic website, actually named . . .

Will to Live. 

                                          Photo and caption by Tony Murray

                            Near the small town of Escalante Utah is a narrow, dirt road. If you follow the road for a                   couple of hours you will come to a place that is    unlike any other. Over time pits have been                 created in the sandstone cliffs and trees have sprung up in the only soil available in the area.               This one being unique in that the pit is very deep, only allowing for a few hours of sunlight to             his the tree each day. I was lucky enough on this occasion to have a great sunset backdrop to               the shot.

                              Location: Escalante Utah

There could not be a better visual image of this concept. Having spent four peaceful days in the Escalante area over the summer, I find this photo even more meaningful than I would otherwise.